Harleywing: Part Two
by GraysonandQuinn
Summary: Since the birth of the rivalry between the Batman and the Joker, their sidekicks have battled beside them; Harley Quinn desperate for the Joker's attention, and Nightwing desperate for Batman's praise. But when they finally come face to face without the bias of their mentors, Dick Grayson and Harleen Quinzel see a future beyond the battle of good and wrong in Gotham. M for violence
1. We Need to Fix Them

_**Harley Quinn and Nightwing are enemies.**_

_**Harleen Quinzel, Harley's alter-ego, fell in love with Dick Grayson, a smiling, caring, sweet policeman. Among the many problems with the relationship was his alter ego. Nighttime Gotham saw Dick Grayson disappear, and Nightwing rose in his place.**_

_**The Joker, Harley Quinn's everything, has murdered her. Dick Grayson is faced with the pain and regret of what he should have told her when he found out that her other half, Harleen Quinzel, was just a facade. And she is, too.**_

_"You shouldn't be here," she whispered. He flicked the light on above the kitchen table between them from where he was leaning against the kitchen counter. Nightwing. _Dick_. Harley reached up and pulled the hood off her head, tossing it on the kitchen table before meeting his eyes._

_Dick's Nightwing mask rested on the counter beside him where he leaned against it, his arms crossed. His face was cold and unreadable, a bandage across his forehead and over his bruised nose. Intense blue eyes watched her from under a furious brow._

"_Explain." his voice was a hoarse whisper. Her eyes flicked up to the wounds on his face, and a look of concern flashed across her face._

"_What happened?" she cried, reaching out and stepping toward him before hesitating. Dick tried to decide between telling her or not._

"_Car crash," he finally admitted, still staring at her heavily. His jaw was pushed forward in anger, and his voice still sounded hoarse. Harley glanced away, setting her jaw because she felt like she might cry. She didn't know what to do._

"_You shouldn't have come," she muttered, wishing he would leave but never wanting him to go._

"_I want to know _why_," he said evenly._

"_I could ask you the same thing," she snapped._

"_Don't play tough with me, Lee, I know you want to cry as much as I do," Dick sighed. "Why? Just answer the damn question."_

"_I already told you everything," she cried. "Don't you remember? The first day we met, and you asked me about Harley Quinn. Everything I said was true, I just didn't say it was me."_

"_That's not what I meant," Dick sighed again, his voice emotionless. "I mean why, when I asked you out to dinner, did you say yes." He stared at her, stony-eyed. She burst into laughter and started crying at the same time, shaking her head as she realized how ridiculous the answer would sound._

"_He forgot our anniversary," she finally said._

"_He- I'm sorry, what?!" Dick stared at her incredulously._

"_It was the anniversary of the day I broke him out of Arkham, and he didn't remember," she clarified drily. She put her hands over her eyes. "I was bitter and there you were."_

_Dick bit his lip and looked down. "You know, I didn't think it could get any worse. But you showed me, didn't you?" His gaze returned to her, his blue eyes narrowed and cold. "On top of being used for information and lied to, I was also just a toy to make the Joker jealous. I knew I'd been used, just didn't know that it had literally been from day one. Thanks for proving me wrong." Dick snapped furiously._

"_I never told him about you," she said, lowering her hands. "I don't know why. I couldn't do it." She crossed her arms over her chest, not sure why she was telling him this. Maybe she wanted him to understand that it hadn't all been a lie. "But he found out about you."_

"_Of course he did." Dick closed his eyes, and he ran a hand through his hair as he fell silent. The quiet hung in the air between them._

"_I'm sorry. I didn't want this to happen," Harley finally whispered._

"_I'm sorry too." Dick said gravely. "I came here with so many things I wanted to ask you. To say to you. I can't remember any of them now." She wiped another tear away._

"_Are you sure? Because I could think of a few terrible things to say to a person like me." A criminal. A murder. A psychopath. A monster._

_Dick rested his elbows on the counter and dropped his head in his hands. He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "Honestly… There's only one thing I really want to say to you."_

"_And what's that?" she asked, wondering if she really wanted to know._

"_I hate you. And after all this shit… I still love you." Dick groaned, his voice muffled by his hands. Harley couldn't understand how her heart could break even more at his words._

"_Are you sure?" Dick glanced up, but she wouldn't meet his eyes. "All of me? Because earlier you said you 'loved me'." She turned her back to him. "You loved the girl who doesn't exist."_

_Dick stood up straight, looking down at her. "Then our relationship doesn't exist. If Lee isn't real, if Lee is the mask you wear during the day to hide who you are at night; then I fell in love with your lies." He swallowed hard. "The sad part is, I'm still falling for them."_

"_You think I don't want them to be real too?" she asked, spinning on him. "You think I sometimes don't wish that I could just be Lee? You made me want that!"_

"_Then why can't you be that!" he demanded._

"_I don't know how," she said sobbing. Dick marched over to her and dragged her into an embrace. Harley clutched at his back as he wound his hands through her hair._

"_We can do it together," he whispered. Harley cried harder, balling up her hands._

"_I don't deserve it. I've hurt you," she muttered._

"_I'd try, for you." He said. He sounded like he was almost pleading with her._

"_Would you?" she asked him desperately. _

"_Of course." She pulled away to look him in the eyes._

"_I love you," Harley whispered._

"_Harley!_" a voice shattered her consciousness. Harley sat bolt upright in the bed and immediately regretted it. It felt like every bone in her body was broken.

"Nightwing!" she called frantically into the air as hands pushed her back down into a lying position.

"Relax, you're fine." Harley turned and saw Poison Ivy sitting beside her bed.

"Red?" she asked. "Where am I? What's going on? Where's Dick?" She got more and more frantic.

"You fell out of a window," Ivy told her. _No_, Harley thought, closing her eyes as it felt like the world was crashing around her. Her and Dick had just been a dream, and she had chosen the Joker.

"I was such a fool," Harley sobbed, tears streaming down her face. "What was I thinking?"

Ivy pushed her back down onto the bed. "I don't think you were," she said dryly. Ivy was right, she hadn't been thinking.

_You've believed his lies since day one, and it was time you payed the price._ "Why didn't I have Dick stay? Why did I go back to _him_? It was his father! I just want Dick!" she rambled.

Mid rant, Ivy just whispered, "I really hope that's his name."

"What did I do? I need to go find Nightwing!"

"You _need _to calm down," Ivy said in a monotone.

"I need to go!" Harley started to sit up, wincing in pain.

Ivy shoved her down again, roughly. "You feel the pain this time?" Ivy demanded. "You aren't in any sort of condition to be chasing any type of Dick."

Harley moaned in pain, clutching her shoulder. "Ow, that hurt," she complained.

"I am not a Witch Doctor, I work with _plants_, now keep your ass in this bed because I need more than one night, alright?" Ivy said harshly.

"Where am I?" Harley asked distractedly, glancing around in confusion. There was intricate furniture made out of vines and plants in the concrete room.

"My place," Ivy explained, a little softer now.

Harley squished the bed beneath her. "You have an actual bed?" she asked groggily. She felt tired, like she hadn't slept in days.

Ivy slammed the cup of water she was holding into Harley's hands. "Just because _I_ like plants doesn't mean I expect everyone to want all of their things to be plants," she snapped.

Harley squinted at her. "Yes, but," she said, confused, "does that mean you went and bought a bed just for me?"

Ivy threw her hands up, exasperated. "If you don't want the bed, fine!"

"No, I want the bed," Harley mumbled over the lip of her cup, and she smiled to herself. "It's just... sweet."

Ivy ignored her and turned away, but as soon as her back was to Harley, she smiled too. When she turned back, she placed a cool cloth on Harley's brow. "You're going to need a lot of sleep," Ivy advised. "That will help you now more than I can."

Harley just realized how tired she was. "Red you're so pushy," she mumbled.

"Red?" Ivy asked, eyebrow raised, and Harley just grinned.

"Did someone say my name?" the Red Hood exclaimed with gusto. Ivy jumped and dumped a glass of water all over herself. "Don't worry, I'm sure it's good for your little plant outfit," he said to her glare.

"Dick?" Harley asked with her eyes half open. Red Hood turned toward her voice, and froze when he saw her.

_Shit_, he thought. _Did not expect that… Thank God._ Red Hood tilted his face into Harley's line of vision. "Sorry," he said, amused, "just me."

"No," Harley cried, exhausted. "So close."

"I get that a lot," he quirked.

"Shut up Jason," she mumbled into her pillow before falling asleep, and he smiled broadly.

"Jason?" Ivy cried. "Dick? What is going on here!" Then it dawned on her. "Oh."

"Damn," Red Hood said casually. "There goes my only bargaining chip." Behind his nonchalant behavior, he was assessing the situation. _So Harley Quinn is alive and Poison Ivy knows the Bat family. Great_, he thought.

Ivy wiped water off of herself while eyeing the Red Hood down. He responded by tilting his head down at the sleeping Harley. "What I take interest in is not of your concern," she hissed before grabbing his arm and dragging him away from the bed.

"I think this is," he replied lightly.

"You think so?" she asked coyly, and leaned into him. She put her hands on the side of his mask. "Since I know who you are now, why don't you take this off," she asked sweetly.

He breathed in loudy through his nose. "I think I'm good," he replied just as sweetly. Ivy rolled her eyes, annoyed at his pheromone blocking mask.

She was just about to move away when his gloved hands grabbed her wrists. Her face was inches from his. "_You _may not understand this," he whispered coldly, finally serious, "but I'm not going to let anything mess with my family."

Ivy held back her sarcastic remark. "I understand better than you think," she hissed. Then, she sighed and finally stopped fighting against him. "He was the first thing she called for when she woke up," she explained. Red Hood's grip loosened on her wrists. "And be high and mighty all you want," she warned, "but if you think I'm going to let you barge in here and harm her to protect what's important to _you_, then we're going to have a problem because she's what's important to _me_."

The Red Hood released her and sighed. "I think _you and I_ have a bigger problem than each other," he said. Ivy crossed her arms. Red Hood nodded toward Harley, "We need a plan because we need to fix them."


	2. If Soap Operas Have Taught Me Anything

_**Nightwing and Harley Quinn are enemies.**_

_**Dick Grayson, Nightwing's alter-ego, fell in love with Harleen Quinzel, a shy, daring, clever psychiatrist at Arkham Asylum. Among the many problems with the relationship was her alter-ego. Nighttime Gotham saw Harleen Quinzel disappear, and Harley Quinn rose in her place.**_

_**The Joker, Harley Quinn's lover, her mentor, has murdered her. Dick Grayson is faced with the pain and regret of what he should have told her when he found out that her other half, Harleen Quinzel, was just a facade. And she is, too.**_

_Dick flipped through the air, laughing happily as he caught the trapeze bar in front of him. He could feel his young muscles work powerfully to propel him forward, his father catching his feet. _

"_Keep your abdomen tight." His father called. Dick bit his lip and made sure to do so as he reached for his mother's outstretched hands. She caught him around his thin wrists and he smiled up at her, her dark hair blowing behind her as she watched him._

"_Now don't loosen your grip. A tight grip is key," she instructed. Dick's hands tightened around her wrists._

"_It's gymnastics and flying," he grinned. She smiled wider and swung her bar faster. Dick swiftly caught the middle bar again, and hooked his knees around it. He reached his hands out for her, and she jumped from her bar. He caught her around the wrists, his grip tight, and swung her up before releasing her and letting her fall gently to the net. He pushed powerfully off of the bar and twisted in midair, backflipping out a ways so he wouldn't land on her. When he hit the net she bounced up a few feet, and he laughed. He rolled toward her when she came back down._

"_How was that?" he asked._

"_Remind me again why I never ran away to join the circus," she replied breathlessly._

"_Be careful on the tightrope, Dick," his father told him, a broad hand resting on his small son's shoulder. "There won't always be a net there to catch you." Dick peeked over the platform at the net far below them. His father took away his balance bar. "Think of it as a tool. Other tightrope walkers may use it as an extension of themselves, but I want you to learn to walk without one. It comes in handy, improves your balance; and the audience always loves a good trick," his father winked. Dick giggled._

"_I know a trick," he smiled as he took a couple of unsteady steps onto the wire. _

"_And what's that?" His father smiled, putting his hands on his hips._

_In answer, Dick spread his arms out wide and tipped backwards off of the tightrope. His father cried out, and he heard his mother scream from below, but he just laughed as he landed safely on the net and bounced high in the air. His mother helped him down when he walked to the edge of the net._

"_I like falling, Mom," Dick grinned, his cheeks flushed._

"_Look out below!" Dick called, laughing. He released the bar and fell gracefully down to bounce on the net. Lee flew a few feet in the air and landed, rolling toward Dick and coming to a stop on top of him. He laughed uncontrollably and smiled up at her. He couldn't quite get over how beautiful she was. And how taken he already was by her. As he leaned up to kiss her again, someone cleared their throat down by the ring. Dick froze, his lips brushing hers._

"_Slow down, Richard," his mother told him sternly. "I don't think you need to be practicing without a net just yet."_

"_But I can do it!" Dick protested, calling from the opposite platform. His mother bit her lip, but she nodded._

"_All right, come on, my little Robin. Let's see you fly. But be careful!" She smiled, hiding her worry, as Dick readied himself on his trapeze bar. He jumped up and swung off of the platform. Gaining momentum, Dick released the bar. His mother gasped as his hands caught the center bar. It was an easy enough maneuver, but she couldn't help but worry. There would be nothing she could do if he fell. As Dick swung, his father put a hand on his mother's shoulder._

"_We've seen him do this a thousand times," he reassured her. Dick jumped. His mother inhaled sharply. His hands hit the third bar and she sighed with relief. Dick swung up to them and his feet planted on the edge of the platform._

"_See? I told you I'd-" His face fell as he teetered on the edge, not quite gaining his balance, and then toppled backward off of the platform. He heard his mother scream and as he scrambled for something to catch in the empty air; his father's hand closed around his wrist. Dick gasped, crying out as his arm jerked painfully, and his father hauled him up onto the platform._

"_Always the little daredevil, Richard. Don't overestimate yourself."_

"_Wait-" She cried as he kicked off of the ledge, his arms outstretched like he could fly, and Harley quickly realized that he wasn't going to make it. Dick's fingertips caught the edge of the building she stood on, but it wasn't enough and his hands slipped. A black gloved hand reached down and caught one of his wrists. His other hand grasped her arm as a hand in a red glove clasped around his forearm to help heave him up. Dick glanced up at Harley Quinn's face as she pulled him up. Soon his elbows were resting on the ledge of the roof. She let him go and let out a tired breath as she fell to her knees._

"_You need to stop following me," she told him sternly, face to face with him. She gave him a peck on the cheek. "But I don't want you to fall."_

"_Just relax, Dickie-bird, mom and dad aren't going to find out." His brother laughed as they snuck to the tent. "We're just practicing."_

"_Mom and dad said not to practice without them, though." Dick whispered._

_They climbed the ladder up to the trapeze platform, and his brother grabbed the bar, swinging out on it. He laughed merrily, and Dick couldn't help but smile. His brother let go, twisted in midair, and caught the bar again, falling toward Dick. He instinctively reached out and caught the bar, his brother jolting to a stop. _

"_What gives, Dick?" he whined, and Dick grinned. His brother's whole weight, whole momentum, was suspended by Dick's hand wrapped around the bar. "Pull me up."_

_Dick grinned and leaned forward, sending them both flying out into the center ring._

"_Falling is just like flying, bird boy," Harley Quinn cackled, pushing Nightwing against the fractured railing of the balcony. It gave way under his weight and Nightwing's hand shot out, firing the grappling hook from the end of his truncheon. The cording wrapped around Harley Quinn's wrist and she jerked forward, catching herself on a jagged piece of the broken railing; Nightwing teetered dangerously on the edge, suspended only by the grappling wire tangled around Harley Quinn's wrist. He glared at her hatefully._

"_If I fall, I'm taking you with me." Nightwing snapped. Harley strained against the wire and his weight. She met his glare before giving up and running toward the edge._

_The crowd was roaring that night. Someone famous, some rich man who was donating a lot of money to the circus was there. The Flying Graysons had always been a hit, but they were tonight's main event. Dick couldn't have been prouder. As he climbed up to the platform with his brother, he looked across the rings at his parents, where they talked nervously. His mother bit her lip. His father put his hands on his hips anxiously._

_As the ringmaster announced them, Dick grinned. Their first maneuvers went smoothly. Dick swung up and landed on the platform, bending over to chalk his hands in the bucket, waiting for his brother to swing up behind him. A horrible scream filled the air, a collective gasp of the audience, and Dick whirled around. His mother's trapeze bar had snapped in two, and he watched her fall, without a net. She'd been holding onto his brother. As his father dove to catch them, the ropes holding his bar slipped. His feet jerked off of the pole and Dick screamed, the sound muffled by the shrieking of the audience. Dick couldn't take his eyes off of them as they fell, almost in slow motion, and hit the ground. His heart stopped. A man in the audience stood. Dick raced down the ladder as quickly as he could, his blood rushing cold in his ears. Racing to his family, he shoved through the crowd that had already gathered. A tall, broad shouldered, dark haired man in an expensive suit stared down at the three bodies. There was so much blood. Dick dropped to his knees, tugging at his mother's arm. Everything around him grew dark as he dragged her into his lap, his eyes still wide with shock._

_Dick turned Harley's limp body over in his arms, holding her to his chest. The circus was empty. He pressed his lips to Harley's forehead, his whole body trembling; Batman standing over him exactly the way that Bruce had when he'd held his mother fourteen years ago. Dick pulled his Nightwing mask off of his face and buried his nose in her bloody hair._

"_I should have been there to catch them. To catch you. I'm so sorry, Harley. If only I'd said I love you."_

Dick jerked awake, in a cold sweat and gasping, his blood icy in his veins. He looked around the room in horror, terrified of what he'd just seen. The knock that had woken him came again, and Dick threw the covers off of his waist as he got up.

When Dick answered the door of his apartment, Barbara covered her mouth. The bruising on his nose and his forehead had gotten worse, and his eyes were rimmed with red and empty of emotion. Dick sighed slowly and looked at Barbara, leaning on the door as if it was too much effort for him to even stand up straight.

"What do you want?"

"I just came to make sure you were okay. Bruce told me what happened." She put and hand on his shoulder. Dick stared at her for a moment before walking away, letting her hand fall away from his shoulder as he left the door open for her. He shuffled into the kitchen.

"Want anything? I have a couple of sodas somewhere. There's water in the tap. Maybe some coffee, too…" he trailed off, wincing as he bent over to look in the refrigerator.

"I'm good thanks," Barbara said, sitting at the counter. Dick wore a tank top undershirt, and there was more bruising on his arm. She could see the burn on his collarbone where the seat belt had dug into his skin in the crash. He winced again as he straightened up.

"Suit yourself," he muttered, running a hand through his hair tiredly.

"Dick you look terrible," she told him.

"Thanks for the heads-up, Babs, I almost felt like I looked good," Dick snapped, walking past her back into the living room, where he collapsed on the couch. Barbara walked over and sat on the armrest.

"Do you want to talk about it?" she asked gently.

"Not with you," he muttered quietly, burying his face in the cushion. Barbara took a forced breath in through her nose.

"Then who do you want to talk about it with?"

"I want you all to screw off," Dick groaned into the cushion, his words muffled.

"Everyone's worried about you," she told him.

"Bully for them."

"Stop being like this," she pleaded. "I'm only trying to help."

"I don't want your help," he snapped, but his voice cracked. He furiously buried his face in the cushion again.

"You can't just bottle this up!" she cried, exasperated.

"Oh my, if soap operas have taught me _anything_…" he said sarcastically, and sat up on the couch. He glared at her, but didn't say another word.

"It isn't fair to get angry at me for this," she snapped at him. Barbara closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Why are you being so incredibly difficult?"

"Because I don't want to talk about this, least of all with you or Bruce. You both _hated her_, after all," Dick growled angrily, getting up from the couch and walking back to his bedroom.

"Dick we didn't hate her; we were worried about you. You love too easily. And it looks like we were right to worry," Barbara said, standing up. Dick hesitated and turned to look at her.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?!" he demanded, narrowing his eyes.

"That means look at yourself," she told him. "Forget who she really was, she broke your heart, and that was what we were afraid of."

Dick's face twisted in anger. "It wasn't her fault."

"Dick, she chose the Joker. How was it not her fault?"

"She was insane!" he shouted. "She didn't know what she's doing!" Barbara put her hands on his shoulders.

"I think you need to look at this clearly to see where the blame really lies," she whispered. Dick shoved her away.

_This is my fault. I should have said something to her- my last words to her were a threat and now she's gone._ Dick glared at Barbara angrily. "I know where the blame lies, dammit, and I'm seeing clearly enough." He looked down, his hair falling over his eyes. "She shouldn't be dead…" he whispered.

"Dick you can't blame yourself. She made her choices long before she met you. You couldn't have done anything. It wasn't you who pushed her, okay?" she pleaded. Dick closed his eyes.

"It _wasn't _me." he said hoarsely. "...I'll kill him, Barbara. I swear to it."

"Dick that's not what I meant," she said alarmed. "The answer to this isn't revenge." She caught the look on his face. "And I'm not saying it's forgiveness either. But maybe the blame isn't on one person here. Maybe this was meant to happen."

"Don't say that," Dick said weakly, not meeting her eyes.

"Dick, I know none of this is easy, and there is nothing I can say that could make this better. But you have to remember that this isn't your fault, even if you won't see the blame in what she did." She didn't say anything else until Dick met her eyes. "In fact, I would say you were probably the best thing that could have happened to Harley Quinn over the last few weeks." Barbara smiled sadly. Dick looked down, and he closed his eyes angrily.

"I'm so sick of crying already," Dick whispered, his voice thick. "I don't know what to do."

"I don't have any sympathy for you there," she told him with a smile before pulling him into a hug. "I spent a lot of hours crying over you."

Dick pulled away from her, turning his back on her. "_You_ still have me," he said furiously. "I made a stupid decision. I told her that I couldn't love her because of who she was. And now she's gone, and I'll never get to tell her that I changed my mind."

"Dick you not accepting her doesn't change anything. She broke the Joker out of Arkham for Christ's sake. She was who she was."

"It doesn't matter. You don't understand, anyway, Barbara." Dick said angrily. "It may not change anything now, but it _could _have. If I would have told her how much I loved her, maybe she wouldn't have pulled a stupid stunt like kidnapping Batman. She could've lived. Even if she hadn't. Even if it hadn't changed a damn _thing, _I should have told her that I would've tried. I should have at least made an attempt to understand her. To _help _her!" he shouted, his sorrow boiling over to fury now.

"Dick the only person who could help her was herself."

"You don't know that," his hands shook with anger.

"She was a psychologist who was a psychopathic killer by night! There is no way she didn't know she was crazy."

"But someone could have helped her! I could have helped her! I could have _saved her_!" Dick shouted, punching a hole in the hallway wall. Tears streamed down his cheeks and he sank to the floor, his back against the doorjamb. He panted weakly. "I could have… saved her… I should have been there…" He looked down, and Barbara realized that he wasn't just talking about her sanity, or her double identity.

"You couldn't have known." She kneeled down beside him. "There's no way you could have known you'd need to be there to catch her."

"That doesn't matter. I _should _have been," he whispered. Barbara took his face in her hands gently and made him look at her. He met her eyes, and then she pulled him close, holding him tight. Dick inhaled shakily and buried his face in her hair, clinging to her shirt as he choked back a sob. She stroked his hair gently and closed her eyes.

"We're all here for you, Dick. Don't shoulder this burden alone."


	3. A Friend

_**Poison Ivy has saved Harley Quinn. **_

_**While Harley Quinn deals with healing from her fall, both from the building, and for Dick Grayson, Ivy is there to nurse her back to health. Harley can't believe the choices she made then, and can't go back on them.**_

_**Poison Ivy, free now from Arkham Asylum, has taken a liking to the Clown's jester sidekick. And upon hearing of Harley's newfound hatred for the Joker, Ivy begins to see: enemy of her enemy… must be a friend.**_

Jason and Ivy were leaned in close to each other. Heads inclined and knees almost touching. They were talking barely over a whisper and both immediately stopped when Harley groggily turned over in the bed across the room.

"Ivy?" she called weakly.

Ivy and Jason both stood. Jason leaned down to whisper one more thing. With a nod, Ivy left him and moved over to Harley while Jason silently exited. "Yes?" Ivy asked.

"What were you talking about?" Harley asked curiously, watching Jason leave. She put an elbow down as if to sit up but thought better of it.

Ivy instinctively put and hand on Harley's shoulder to hold her down. "Mostly about how insufferable he is," she said simply. "He seems to think he's less annoying than Edward Nigma, but I think his senseless killing makes Jason more obnoxious." With a shrug she added, "We never really reached a consensus."

"Oh," Harley groaned. She scrunched her eyebrows, frustrated with herself. "You know who they are. I promised I wouldn't tell!" Ivy rolled her eyes. "And you're lying," Harley suddenly said, glaring at her. "Nice deflection, but you are lying."

Ivy smiled. "I think that's a very reasonable conversation," she defended. "There are so many aspects of his personality to consider for how annoying he is. Like being a spoiled rich Wayne brat." She looked pointedly at Harley who groaned.

"No! We made a bargain," she cried. "What will he say?" Harley rethought her question. "What does he _think_ of me?!"

Ivy sat back and pretended to think. "I don't know," she whispered. Putting a finger to her lips she added, "I'd have to think he's more upset about the murder attempt on his father." Harley burst into tears, burying her face into her pillow.

"You should have just let me die!" she wailed into the pillow.

"Relax," Ivy droned, standing up to pour Harley a glass of water. "I don't deal in information. I have other people for that. And even if I did, do you really think anyone could afford to pay for this kind of information?" She stuck the glass in Harley's hand. "Just knowing what the Joker doesn't gives me this warm happy feeling." She looked down at Harley with a huge grin. "This must be what Christmas feels like."

"No, this must be what hell feels like." Harley winced as she took a drink of the water.

"Aw, come on," Ivy said with a gentle nudge. "You're alive. I mean, sure, the love of your life hates you because you chose a crazy man over him, and then that crazy man shoved you out of a window, but it could be worse!" Ivy took a drink from her own glass of her water. "And I'm just speculating here, but you _do _talk in your sleep." Harley stared at her in horror.

"_How_? How in the world could this be worse?" she demanded, sniffling.

Ivy shrugged. "You could not have me." Harley's lower lip trembled.

"Thank you." She nodded vigorously before breaking down into sobs again.

Ivy jumped up. "Oh God, you're still crying. How do I shut it off? If you really don't like me that much I can leave. Just stop leaking; the plants hate salt water."

"No, no, don't leave!" Harley begged, her arms flailing unthinkingly toward Ivy. "I'm just happy is all. Well, not _happy_, but thank you."

Ivy crossed her arms and lowered her eyebrows at Harley. "Humans are so confusing. If you're happy-ish aren't you supposed to smile, not," she waved a hand at Harley's face, "cry?" Harley wiped away the tears.

"Do you always smile when you're happy?" she asked, calming down.

"I-" Ivy began, and thought. "I don't know. I'm not happy that often. I think I always smile."

"Well do you always smile when you're with Jason?" Harley asked slyly.

"That's absurd," Ivy said quickly. "He's absurd, and that whole idea is just-"

"-Absurd?" Harley asked sweetly.

Ivy glared. "You're right, I shouldn't have saved you."

"But then you wouldn't have gotten to spend more time with Jason." Harley grinned widely.

"Aren't you supposed to be crying?" Ivy snapped.

"I could if you like," Harley offered; she knew it wouldn't be hard. She had calmed down but was still on the verge.

"No, _no_," Ivy said firmly. She stood up and paced a bit. She looked back at Harley. "You look all…" she waved at Harley, "normal and stuff… and blonde." Harley nervously reached a hand up to her face then touched her hair.

"Um, yes… I…"

"I won't say anything," Ivy assured her still studying her closely. "You're just so young."

"You don't look so old yourself," Harley countered.

"I don't age like a human." Ivy brushed the matter off.

"Really?" Harley perked up with curiosity. "So you could be like a hundred?"

"I'm not a hundred," Ivy sighed.

"Well are you stuck at an age?"

"Why are you so curious?" Ivy snapped.

"I'm sorry," Harley muttered immediately, laying back down. Ivy regretted her outburst; she liked having Harley talking. She walked over to a pillar in the center of the room wrapped in vines and Kudzu. Reaching out, a flower bloomed from the vines at her touch.

"How about this: if I tell you something about me, you tell me something about you," Ivy offered. Harley lifted her head off the pillow looking unsure. "It's that or sit here in bored silence."

"Okay, but can I sit up?" Ivy helped her and adjusted her pillows. Once Harley was adjusted, Ivy sat back in her chair.

"Late twenties or early thirties," Ivy answered the earlier question. "I guess you could say that I ruined the human ticking clock inside of me. How old are you?"

"Well," Harley muttered. "Twenty six."

"So you're just out of college then?" Ivy guessed.

"No." Harley smiled. "I graduated high school at sixteen and college at twenty. Genius," she said the word as if it had explained away a lot of things. It usually did. Getting her her early job at Arkham, her big break in advancing her career, not stopping her disastrous downfall.

"So what do you do?"

"No fair. My turn." Ivy turned up her nose but didn't argue. "I don't mean to offend you, but why are you green?" Harley asked.

Ivy laughed. "It's chlorophyll."

"Chlorophyll?"

"The thing that makes leaves green-"

"-I know what it is," Harley objected. "So you're full on plant then?"

"For the most part, yes. Chlorophyll, photosynthesis, the Calvin Cycle, and other fun things."

"So do you have a plant brain? Is that why you're crazy?"

"I'm not crazy," Ivy hissed. "Men kill plants. _Destroy_ Mother Nature. They should be punished for what they put my babies through." Harley swore the plants in the room swayed with Ivy's anger.

"Okay," she muttered. "Not crazy at all."

"You're one to talk. Why do you love the clown?"

"_Loved_. Loved," Harley tried to assure both of them. She shrugged. "If I had to guess, I'd say Dependent Personality Disorder. Delusional love attachment formed by the need of approval and attention by someone important," she explained. "Along with the need to feel accepted and unique to someone. Reaching someone unaffected by someone else. You know," she sighed. "Your basic crazy."

"That's ridiculous," Ivy snorted.

"You're one to talk," Harled defended herself. "At least I haven't been in Arkham." Ivy glared at her. "Hey," Harley got suddenly excited. "How did you escape?"

"A specially engineered plant that I snuck in with me. It took a few years to grow and gain enough strength to break me free."

"That's kinda wicked."

"It was mostly destroyed. Only a little piece survived."

"I'm so sorry." Harley couldn't understand why Ivy was so devoted to her plants, but she could see how upset she was. And _that _Harley did understand. "Does it have a name?" She looked around at the plants she could see, as if she could spot it.

"I just call it my baby," Ivy told her, wondering why it mattered.

"You should give it a name. It's important." Ivy watched her for a moment.

"Why do you say you loved the Joker? What exactly changed?"

"Can't you guess?" Harley murmured, looking at her hands. "I fell in love with someone else."

"With Dick? Nightwing?" Harley looked up into Ivy's eyes. "How?"

"How like endorphins and-"

"-No." Ivy glared at her, not put off from the question. "How did the Joker's right hand girl fall in love with the Bat's first sidekick?"

"I don't even know," Harley admitted. "I don't even know why I started dating him. There isn't a good enough reason I can give myself despite… despite the one awful reason I gave Dick. He didn't know I was Harley Quinn or anything," she explained. "And I didn't know he was Nightwing. We just found each other and it was right and… it doesn't matter." Harley wrung the blanket in her hands. "He hates me now."

"But you still love him?" Harley's hands froze on the blanket before they resumed twisting even tighter.

"Without a doubt." She cleared her throat. "You better have something good to reveal after that emotional tirade." Ivy sat for a moment, her hands folded in her lap.

"You know the thing about chlorophyll?" she asked suddenly. "The leaves turn in the Autumn. You see, I have my own version of that." Ivy held out her hand. Her fingers started turning tan. Harley gasped as the color worked its way up to her elbow. "Handy for when I need to go continue my day job."

"But you're… you're telling me…" Harley's eyes were wide. "Your secret identity?" It wasn't on file at Arkham. She was a green plant with non human DNA, they'd had no way to tell.

"Don't get all mushy on me," Ivy sighed. "I don't need anymore tears."

"It's just… that's what a friend would do," Harley whispered.

Ivy looked at her before smiling gently. "I know."


	4. Girl Trouble, Kid?

_**Dick Grayson is coping.**_

_**Still suffering from the death of the woman he'd fallen in love with, Dick is back at work after spending time at home to rest and recuperate. His partner worries for him constantly.**_

_**New faces in the station provide a brief distraction from the monotony of spending his days as an officer and his nights as Nightwing. A new friend is just what the doctor ordered for his depression.**_

A week ago, Dick never would have thought that his savior would be an oversized thermos of coffee, but as he filled the thermos, the bitter scent of the black coffee made him smile a bit. It was a simple action that he took every day, no matter what had happened in the days before; Dick always had his thermos and his coffee and he went to work. It was a reassuring routine. A sign that everything hadn't just collapsed around him. Despite the pounding in his head and the aching in what seemed like every muscle in his body, Dick had dragged himself out of bed and sloppily tugged on his police uniform; he hadn't slept anyway, and working was a better use of his day than trying to sleep longer.

He scooped his thermos off of the counter and left his apartment, and then he drove to the station. When he entered, unfamiliar faces turned to look at him. A man whispered across the desk to his partner. Another scurried out of Dick's way as he walked to his desk, dropped the thermos down with a heavy _thunk_, and slid into his chair. It felt like his fractured ribs were threatening to break in his chest.

"The new kids?" he asked Will, who was still looking at his computer. Dick glanced around. "They look like they all just came straight from their damn training," he sighed, examining the fresh young faces. When Will glanced up to respond, he did a double take. Dick's appearance was a shock; his face was marred with bruises on nearly the entire left side, tape over his nose and the stitched cut on his forehead. His uniform was disheveled, and dark circles rimmed his reddened eyes.

"Jesus! You look worse," Will exclaimed. "Should you even be here today?"

"Didn't stop you when you got poisoned," Dick muttered bitterly, taking a drink from his thermos as his eyes combed through the faces of their new co-workers in the room, mentally cataloging each of their features, obvious habits, and names as he did.

"Not quite the same as coming to work looking like Frankenstein's monster," Will told him.

"What else am I supposed to do?" Dick snapped, looking at him irritably. He bit his lip, his face softening a bit. "I'm sorry. I'm…" he trailed off, watching one of the officers distractedly. Will threw a pencil at him. Dick jumped.

"You gotta quit beating yourself up about this."

"I… wait, what? About what?" Dick blinked slowly and looked at Will, his eyes still looking a million miles away.

"About the break up and the car accident. Things will look up eventually."

Dick scoffed softly and looked down at the pencil in his hands. "I don't think you're right."

"You never know," Will said, crumpling up a paper and tossing it in the trash. "She could change her mind."

"She won't," he choked, hiding his eyes with his hair as he closed them.

"Hey Vets."

Will and Dick both looked up at the woman who'd spoken, an officer who couldn't have been over 22, with an unfamiliar swoop nose and narrow blue-green eyes. She looked at them both expectantly.

"Hey," Will said, "welcome to the force."

"'Bout time somebody said it," she grinned. Her Boston accent was heavy, but somehow feminine at the same time. "The name's Joan. Joan Louis. I've heard about you two, the Commissioner talks 'bout you all the time. At least he did all through my interview," she gave a half-cocked smile, thrusting out her hand. "Pleasure." Dick ignored her hand, so Will shook it.

"Nice to meet you Joan. It's nice to have you here." Will tried to overcompensate for Dick's obvious indifference. She raised an eyebrow at Dick.

"The hell's wrong with him?" Joan asked, jerking her head at Dick; her mousy brown bob flicked in the same direction. It was like her hair never stayed in one place, it was always falling on her shoulder or slipping down her cheek from behind her ear or getting stuck behind the lenses of her glasses, where she'd tug it out and push the nosepiece higher on her nose. Dick looked up at her and she was completely unfazed by his appearance. He still didn't say anything.

"He's going through a rough time," Will said simply.

"Girl trouble, kid?" she asked, planting a hand on her hip. Dick scoffed.

"You calling me a kid, rookie?" He leaned back in his chair and immediately regretted it, feeling like his ribs were going to snap.

"What if I am?" She laughed. "I've had my fair share of relationship trouble. But hey. I'm new in town and looking for some drinking buddies. Join me tonight?"

"It's Tuesday," Dick stared at her.

"We can pretend it's Friday for a little while. You in, Will?" She glanced at him, her hair sliding over her shoulder. It was much shorter on the left than it was on the right.

"No thanks. The wife would kill me."

"Tied down, huh? In the defense of my detective skills, you were hiding your ring with your other hand," she shrugged. "That leaves you, kid."

"Don't call me that."

"You in?"

"I'm busy."

"Doing what?" She pressed, cocking her head, her bangs slipping out from behind her ear.

"Working," Dick glanced at Will, and then picked up his thermos.

"You've got the day shift right now, kid, you won't work tonight!" She cried. Dick smiled a little at her persistence.

"I work two jobs. But maybe another time," he added, and her eyes gleamed.

"See you 'round then, kid," she winked, walking back to her desk.

"Just when I thought I could retire that nickname for you," Will sighed.

"Oh shut up," Dick muttered, opening a new window on his computer.

"I don't think it's a good idea for you to go to your 'second' job tonight," Will pleaded with him. "You just got out of the hospital."

"I can handle myself, Will," Dick said distractedly, typing the words 'Joan Louis' into the search bar. He scrolled through the results until he found the right one. "Besides. Something tells me I'll need to be out tonight. The others- they'll be busy with other things, and it's my job…" Dick trailed off, scanning the screen.

"And what are the others going to be _so_ busy with?" Will asked sarcastically.

"You don't want me to answer that," Dick smiled a little, glancing at Will and then looking back to his computer screen. "She's a genius."

"What?" he asked, lost.

"What?" Dick looked at him, and then shook his head. "Forget my other job. That has nothing to do with this- that girl is a _genius._" He breathed, laughing wryly. "Why the hell would she want to be a _cop_?"

"The better question is: why are you googling her?"

"It's not google, its a… more reliable database." Dick looked pointedly at him, warning him not to ask. "Joan Pearl Louis graduated high school at age fifteen. She's written two books, her parents are both incredibly famous lawyers in DC, and she has some of the highest recorded test scores I've ever seen. SAT, Entrance Exams to Harvard, Yale, MIT… She's a genius. She scored higher than you on her tests to be a cop, too," Dick glanced at Will. "The question is, _why _did she want to be a cop? She could've done anything."

"I don't know." Will pointed a ballpoint pen at him, "You're the one looking through her file."

Dick leaned back in his chair. "It looks like theres an almost-arrest record, too. But theres not. It's like she was, but she _wasn't _ever arrested. A scuffle, and only one news story that holds record of it. Her parents must've cleared it up. _Covered _it up. She _technically _has no criminal record."

"I give up!" Will exclaimed, throwing his arms in the air and leaning back in his chair. "What are you thinking?"

Dick glanced at Joan where she sat at her desk, clicking lazily through reports on her computer. He was either ignoring Will or hadn't heard him, lost in thought. Dick finally looked back to Will. "The only blemish on her record, or almost-blemish, if it had ever been processed; is vigilantism." Will stared at him for a second.

"You people are everywhere!"

Dick rolled his eyes. "Could we keep that on the down-low _please_? Don't make me regret confiding in you. For the hundredth time," he added at the end, rubbing his temple.

"I'm sorry, but is it like a prerequisite to work as a police officer or something? Should I be suspicious of the Commissioner?"

_Only his daughter,_ Dick thought. "Of course not. Actually, I'm the only one that I know of," he lied.

"Well what about Miss Young and Peppy over there?" Will asked, waving at Joan.

"As far as I can tell, it was in her teens, and it wasn't… as in-depth as some of the ones we have here in Gotham." Dick shrugged, taking a drink of his coffee and turning back to his work.

"Sorry, I'm new to this whole thing. I didn't realize there was a scoring system."

Dick rolled his eyes, not responding. He had a pile of reports to scan and catalog, and he knew he'd fall behind if they kept chatting. Commissioner Gordon walked in the room, and Dick hid his face with his hair, shrinking into his jacket. The footsteps tapped on the linoleum and stopped by his desk, and Dick didn't look up.

"Don't think I don't see you Grayson," Gordon said, crossing his arms as he glared down at him. Dick closed his eyes, swallowing his irritation and then smiling up at Gordon.

"I guess I left my invisibility cloak at home," he sighed. "Can I help you, Commissioner?" Dick asked cheerfully, biting his lip. _Please don't send me home._

"If I remember correctly, you shouldn't even be out of the hospital yet."

Joan glanced over her shoulder at them curiously, overhearing Gordon's words. Dick met her eyes, and she watched him as he looked up at the Commissioner.

"I got out early. Good behavior."

"Lying to the Police Commissioner. Very cute." Gordon didn't smile.

"You used to think it was," Dick pointed out.

"If you think it's so cute, how about this lie? You better still be here when I come back in ten minutes." Gordon turned and walked back toward his office. Dick pursed his lips and looked at Will, swinging back and forth in his swivel chair.

"Did that sound like he put me on traffic duty to you?"

"You really want to try that again?" Will asked skeptically.

"That's what it sounded like to me," Dick pondered.

"If you say so, but I don't know anything, okay?" Will scooped the keys off his desk and stood up.

"Of course not, you're only disappearing when I do, getting in my police cruiser, and maybe buying me lunch…" Dick stood, stretching. He winced in pain.

"And possibly admitting you back into a hospital," Will added as they headed for the door.

"That's out of the question." Dick said seriously.

"I thought so," Will muttered. "So food first before you get another concussion?"

"I don't remember the last time I ate. Food would be awesome," Dick said, getting in the car. Will slid into the driver's seat.

"The diner then?" Will asked, before thinking it was a mistake. Dick's face fell. He had gone there with Lee. "Or we could go somewhere different for a change," he quickly added. "I don't know, McDonald's maybe?" Dick glanced out the window and then looked at his hands in his lap, biting his lip. He'd almost forgotten. For the moment, he'd almost been past her. And now he didn't even have his thermos.

"Are you more of a Burger King place?" Will joked halfheartedly, seeing but not understanding Dick's distress. He hated seeing his partner so upset.

"I think I'll just skip lunch, actually," Dick said quietly.

"You need to eat something," Will objected.

"I'm not…" Dick trailed off, knowing that he had no excuse. "I don't feel like it," he shrugged petulantly.

"You just said you didn't remember the last time you ate. I have a four year old. You can't think you're getting away with anything like that." Will started the car and began backing out. Dick said nothing, running a hand through his hair. "So either pick a place, or I will pick one for you," Will warned.

"Pick," he sighed, looking out the window.

"Alright," Will said, pulling away from the station. "But you aren't going to like it."

"What?" Dick turned to look at him suspiciously. "Why won't I like it? Where are you taking me, Will?" Will didn't say anything as he drove.

"Collins? Grayson? That squad car better be headed for Grayson's apartment building," Gordon's voice snapped over the radio on the dash.

"We were just going to go get lunch," Dick protested.

"It had better be from your refrigerator," Gordon said. "I want you home." Dick rolled his eyes, and the Commissioner hesitated. "We're worried about you, Dick. Trust me, this is for the best. I'm suspending you until further notice."

"What!?" Dick cried, grabbing the mic. "Commissioner, I'm well enough to work! I can do this!" he practically shouted.

"I'm sorry, Grayson. If you come to work under suspension, I have the power to fire you. Stay home and get some rest. You can come back when _I _say so, and that means when you're fixed up and better. Collins, take him home please, and bring his cruiser back to the station when you're finished."

"Don't worry Commissioner; I'm taking him somewhere where he will be taken care of." Dick recognized the road they were taking. The radio fell silent and Dick dropped his head in his hands.

"I really, really, _really_ would like you to take me to my apartment," he pleaded weakly.

"For you to starve yourself and mope around? No way. I want to know that someone is making sure you don't just waste away."

"Then… take me back to your place. Drop me off at the hospital. At Arkham… anywhere but here." Dick begged him as Will turned the car onto the gravel driveway that wound through a canopy of trees toward Wayne Manor.

"I told you that you wouldn't like it if I picked."

Dick fell silent, staring up at the towering mansion. "That's an understatement." Will pulled the squad car to a stop, and Alfred stepped outside the front doors to welcome them.

"I brought someone to see you!" Will called, stepping out to the car. Dick closed his eyes, already bracing himself for the look on Alfred's face when he saw that his wounds had gotten worse than when he'd last seen him. Stepping out of the car, Dick walked slowly to the front steps of the Manor; he tried his hardest not to remember the last time he'd run down those stairs.

"Hey, Al," Dick cleared his throat, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"Master Dick," Alfred said in alarm.

"He's been suspended," Will informed him. "And I can't make him eat. I figured if I left him here, he'd get taken care of." Dick looked down guiltily at his boots on the gravel.

"Yes, he will be. Thank you," Alfred told Will. Will patted Dick once on the shoulder before walking back to the squad car. Dick looked at Alfred.

"It would be great if you could tell me that no one else is here," he said halfheartedly, knowing it wasn't true, but he didn't want the others to see him like this.

"It's is just Master Damian and myself," Alfred told him, ushering him into the house. Dick felt a bit of relief. Damian had seen him look worse. "Now go get cleaned up while I make you something to eat," Alfred commanded him before walking away. Dick looked sadly around the grand foyer, and then walked up the stairs to his bedroom.

Leaving the door cracked behind him, Dick tossed his jacket on the bed and went into the bathroom; he winced in pain as he unloaded his belt, gun, and badge on the counter and then pulled his shirt off. After Barbara had left yesterday, Dick had set off in his Nightwing uniform. He'd needed anything to distract him from Lee. He'd spent the better part of the night hunting down any criminal activity he could find and shut down, and as he'd already been pretty beaten up from the car accident, he'd picked up a few scrapes and bruises as he fought. Dick knew it had been a stupid decision. When the church bells in Gotham had sung midnight, Dick had found himself perched on the top of the Wayne Enterprises building, lost in thought. Now, he didn't want to think. The pain was a constant ebbing at the back of his mind, knowing that she was gone.

_Of course, you've experienced loss before,_ Dick thought, returning to the bedroom and pulling a fresh gray t-shirt out of the dresser. _But somehow this is different._

"Richard?" Damian asked, pushing his bedroom door open. Dick looked over his shoulder as he walked back into the bathroom.

"Damian. What's up?" he asked, returning to the bedroom with his heavy belt in his hand. He placed it on top of the dresser, took the gun out of it's holster, and set it neatly beside the belt.

"What are you doing here?" Damian watched him.

"I came here to keep an eye on you," Dick smiled, folding his jacket and placing it on the dresser as well.

"You look terrible," Damian informed him. "What did you do this time?"

"Went looking for trouble," Dick sighed, turning to Damian and putting his hands on his hips. "It's really that bad?"

"Considering your normal state of being is horrible," Damian said as he sat down on the bed, "it isn't the worst it could be."

Dick yawned. "Thanks, Damian," he mumbled, and then crawled onto the bed, his exhaustion overwhelming him in the familiarity and comfort of the room. Dick slid under the covers, looking up at Damian where he sat. The kid had grown so much since they'd worked together.

"Don't you have a place of your own," he asked Dick pointedly.

"Yeah. Did you ever think that maybe I miss you guys?" Dick asked, yawning widely again.

"Your food Master Dick," Alfred said, stepping in through the open door carrying a tray. Dick sat up a little.

"Thanks, Al, you can leave it there on the nightstand." He smiled a little, and then glanced at Damian as Alfred left, still sitting cross legged on the bed. Dick suddenly wrapped his arms around Damian and tugged him down under the covers, holding him tight against his struggling.

"What are you doing?" Damian demanded. "Let me go!"

Dick didn't respond, hugging the boy close and closing his eyes. "I'm going to go to sleep like Alfred told me to," he smiled a little.

"What does that have to do with you attacking me?" Damian asked, but he stopped fighting Dick.

"I'm not attacking you. It's a hug, you baby." Dick snapped, pressing his face into the pillows tiredly. "It's a good thing you stopped struggling, too, I've got cracked ribs and that was starting to hurt. Now go to sleep."

"It's the middle of the day."

"Bats are nocturnal. Go to sleep." Damian curled into a ball beside him. Dick smiled, relaxing into the blankets and drifting off, his arms still around his brother.


	5. I'm Going to Go Crazy

_**Harley needs a distraction**_

_**Poison Ivy is doing her best to take care of Harley, but without the Joker or something to occupy her thoughts, she's going mad locked up in Ivy's 'home' beneath the city. She can think of nothing but the Joker, revenge… and him. Always him.**_

_**In a desperate attempt to cheer her up, Poison Ivy agrees to go on an outing to the sunnier side of Gotham- a putt putt course. Despite feeling ridiculous, she can't help but enjoy herself- and enjoy how happy it makes Harley. But the two of them are planning something, and it's just what the doctor ordered; revenge.**_

Harley fidgeted around in her bed. She glanced around, her fingers twitching impatiently. Glancing around the room, she sighed loudly. _I'm going to go crazy sitting here. _She had been stuck with her thoughts for too long. She sat up cautiously, wary in case it hurt.

Harley heard the tell tale rumble of the subway as it rattled by. She had guessed that this had been an abandoned maintenance or furnace room. There wasn't much about Ivy's room that was still concrete or metal. Vines and Kudzu wove a gentle canopy across the ceiling; punctuated by bright flowers that laced the air with their intoxicating scent. The concrete block walls were cracked with spiraling vines. Harley glanced at the table on the left side of the room; flowers wrapped arounds it's legs, but it was the only bit of furniture beside her bed that was not completely coated by or made of plants. There were pots of every sort of plant imaginable scattered across the scarred surface, and Harley spotted Ivy's 'baby'.

She ran a hand through her hair. _You can't hide in here forever_, Harley thought. _Despite what Ivy wants._ Standing up, she started to pace, ignoring her sore back and shoulders and the shooting pain it caused in her right leg. Being pushed out of the window had hurt in more ways than just physical. It had been surprising how little she felt about the Joker hurting her like that. It was like she had simply swept away all her feelings about him, like they had never been real. The psychologist in her knew they hadn't been, that she was sick, but she still thought she'd feel something now that it was over. She only felt regret with how she'd ended it. She'd been a fool.

_You were going to break up with him and now you want him_. Harley snorted. It was almost a tangible ache thinking about Dick, wondering what he was doing, what he thought of what she'd done, how much he _hated_ her. Hated who she really was.

"What are you doing?" Ivy demanded, the door clicking closed behind her.

"Pacing," Harley said innocently. She turned to face Ivy, her lips pouting as she looked up nervously through her eyelashes. "Allie!" she cried, catching sight of the cat in Ivy's arms. She rushed forward and pulled the cat into her chest. Ivy had been fetching things from her apartment, but hadn't let her tag along. Harley's first demand had been clothes.

"You should be resting." Ivy took a step back.

"Ah!" Harley kissed the squirming cat's head. "Ivy-Pamela… Pam… Red," she finally decided. "I've been resting forever!"

"You fell out of a building." Ivy pushed Harley to the bed. Harley let the cat go and sat on the mattress. Allie scampered off, and Ivy glared at her as she sniffed a flower.

"You don't have to remind me," Harley muttered. "Ivy, what am I going to do?"

"Whatever you want," Ivy sighed. "Start over." She shrugged and sat beside Harley.

"But I don't want to." Harley groaned. "I want to get back at him. I want… _revenge_." Harley could feel the urge for it burning in her gut.

"Now _that_ I can help with." Ivy grinned. "What were you thinking?"

"But I don't want to kill him," Harley added, thinking about Dick. _I've killed enough people. I've tainted my soul too much_. Ivy stood up, her back to Harley.

"This is about Dick, isn't it?" she demanded, her voice hard.

"Just because he hates me doesn't mean I can't try to be a better person for him," Harley admitted, blushing. Ivy smiled to herself. "Are you going to help me or not?"

"What are you planning?" Ivy turned around, her face neutral again.

"Well," Harley said slowly. "I'm sure he still wants to break the prisoners out of Arkham."

"No." Ivy glared at her.

"What?" she cried.

"If you aren't going to kill him, you are _not_ going to betray him. That psycho will never rest till he kills you!"

"But-"

"-He _already_ did a pretty good job trying to."

"But he didn't!"

"You are not trying for a second time," Ivy ordered.

"You can't tell me what to do!" Harley stood up, ignoring the agony the sudden moment brought. Her face was bright red. "I can do this without you. He's hurt _hundreds_ of people, and _I_ helped." She pointed an accusing finger at herself, eyes watering. "I can't let him hurt anyone else. I need to stop him." Her voice was weak and cracked at the end.

"Harley," Ivy sighed. "You don't have to stop him to negate your actions."

"You don't know that," Harley muttered, sinking back onto the bed. "You don't know what I did for him."

"Harley that's-"

"-You don't know what I did _with_ him." She shuddered.

"I'm not going to help you kill yourself," Ivy said firmly, "out of some misplaced sense of guilt." Harley tried to interrupt, but Ivy kept talking. "You should forget the Joker and move on."

"Red!"

"No, no buts."

"Please!"

"We are done talking about this. Forget it," Ivy told her, crossing her arms.

"There's nothing _to do_ but think about it," Harley whined.

"Well try."

"I can't! I need to do something. I need to get out of here," she begged.

"You're crazy." Ivy shook her head.

"I thought that was obvious."

"You _need_ to stay here and rest."

Ivy wasn't sure how, but hour later, she and Harley were standing in line at a putt-putt golf course.

"We shouldn't be here," she grumbled.

"Oh come on! Cheer up." Harley was practically bouncing up and down. She looked ridiculous wearing a long sleeve shirt and jeans to cover her bandages in the muggy heat. Ivy was wearing a pair of high waisted black shorts with a flowing green chiffon tank top tucked in that Harley had lent her. She felt odd. Her ID was in the wallet in her pocket, and her skin was pale. She hadn't gone out as Pamela Isley to do anything fun in years.

"This is ridiculous," she grumbled. Harley ignored her, paying for the both of them at the window, grabbing them two balls, and pulling Pam toward the putters. She handed her a purple on and grabbed one for herself.

"No one can be pouty during putt-putt. It's in the rules," Harley told her.

"It is?" she asked, glancing at the rule sign. Harley laughed at her.

"Have you ever been mini golfing before?"

"No one has ever taken me," Pam said stiffly.

"Well, we're going to change that." Harley handed her a green golf ball she'd chosen for her. Pam glared at Harley and her red ball; Harley flashed her a smile and skipped to the first hole. Pam smiled gently down at her ball and putter for a moment before following.

"How does this work?" she droned, looking down at Harley's ball on the green turf.

"You take the stick," Harley held her putter up, "and you hit the ball into the hole." She grinned. "I think there's more to it than that, but that's how I play." She lined the head of the club up behind the ball. "Watch and learn Red."

Harley smacked the ball. It ricocheted off the edge of a rock, to the wall, past the hole, to the opposite wall, and rolled to a stop beside the rock.

"How informative," Pam sneered.

"Your turn!" Harley pushed her into place. "Since it's your first time, I'll give you a Mulligan on this hole."

"This is a place for children. I don't think we should be drinking."

Harley laughed. "A Mulligan is a do over in golf. Just hit the ball." Pam dropped her ball on the turf. She lined her putter up, and hit the ball. It rolled to a stop on the opposite side of the rock from Harley's. "The battle is on." Harley went up to her ball, carefully aiming at the hole; she winced slightly as she bent over the putter.

Pam watched her seriously, not wanting to bring it up. Harley seemed like she had forgotten her problems for the moment and was having fun. Pam didn't want to remind her.

Two more putts, and Harley made it in. "Yay! Beat that!" She plucked her ball up and stepped aside, grinning at Pam.

"This is stupid," Pam muttered as she hit her ball around the hole.

"Try not to have too much fun, Red. You might hurt yourself." Pam glared at her as the ball finally clattered into the cup. "Come on." Harley waited impatiently for her to pick up her ball and dragged her to the next hole.

It only took three holes for Harley to start losing, yelling "Get in your home," at her ball as she hit it seven times around the hole. The fifth hole was the first trick hole. There were two tunnel shoots, and only one led close to the hole.

"How about _you_ go first."

"That's cheating!" Pam cried.

"I've gone first four holes in a row. Your turn."

She glared at Harley. "But I still don't know what I'm doing," she countered.

"Oh, come on," Harley complained. "Branch out, spread your leaves, reach for the sun, open your petals, bloom-"

"-Fine! Anything to make you stop talking." Harley grinned as she went first. Pam's ball barrelled down the first tunnel, coming out a long distance away from the hole.

"That's unfortunate," Harley mocked with a big smile. Pam rolled her eyes as Harley lined up her putt for the second tunnel. Her aim was close to accurate, but two feet from the opening, a web of vines criss crossed the tunnel, and the ball bounced off. It trickled slowly down the incline close to the wall and ended up in the fuzzy turf 'sand trap' even further away from the hole. "You cheater!"

"What?" Pam looked up from pretending to examine her nails.

"Oh it is so on now," Harley warned. On the next hole, Harley elbowed Pam as she was putting, and her ball splayed over into the shallow puddle that was the lake of the hole. "Oh, I'm sorry," Harley laughed. "I didn't think it'd go in the water." Pam glared at her.

"I have to stand in that puddle now."

"I'm _so _sorry," she sniggered.

"You will be," Pam assured her.

"No!" Harley brandished her putter like a sword between them still laughing. "Stay away!" She lined her putter up, glancing between Pam and her ball. "Take a step away from me," she warned.

"Oh I have two more holes to get my revenge," Pam said sweetly, taking the step back.

"You don't scare me," Harley said. Pam was quiet, just waiting for her to putt. Harley hit the ball, and it rolled within a few feet of the cup.

Harley eyed Pam as the walked along the fence to the eighth hole. Pam shook her head, amused until she caught sight of something. In the cul de sac outside of the fence, was a newspaper dispenser. She ignored the headline, looking at the article beneath it.

**Nightwing on a spree. Prison cells are filling.**

The picture below was cut off, but it looked like the tops of heads; some of the people were wearing police hats. She glanced at Harley's back, hoping she hadn't seen it.

Harley stared at the newspaper. Her bubble of happiness had burst, and she suddenly wanted to lay down. She turned to face Pam, and forced a smile, lining up her putt.

The both of them were quiet as they putted, neither of them doing well on the hole. After she picked up her ball out of the cup, Harley automatically headed toward the last hole. Pam grabbed her arm and pulled her to a stop.

"If we're going to do this," Pam sighed, glaring at Harley. "We do it my way."

"It's just the last ho-"

"Not putting." She stared at Harley until she understood. "Are you sure you can handle this?" Harley nodded. "Good because if you do something stupid like die, I'll kill you."


	6. I'm One Of the Good Guys

_**There's a fine line between distraction and destruction.**_

_**Dick has distanced himself from everyone he cares for, in a desperate attempt to sort out his distraught feelings for himself. The result? Erratic sleeping patterns, a nonexistent diet, and constant physical abuse as Nightwing.**_

_**Heading out again tonight, he channels his anger dangerously through his work, and it threatens not only his own safety but the safety of those he chooses to focus his anger on. Batman knows he has to intervene, but neither of them could have predicted the result.**_

Dick had woken up around ten o'clock at night. Damian was gone, and the Manor was empty. The sleep that he'd gotten was refreshing and, after eating the cold dinner that sat on the nightstand, Dick had set off for Gotham, but only after patching up his wounds and snatching some fresh supplies from the Batcave. He also figured that Bruce wouldn't mind if he borrowed a car, since he had no other way to get back to his apartment without it.

It was incredible what a bit of sleep, a well balanced meal, and a cold shower could do. Dick felt fully alert, and his mind felt clear. Until tonight, his thoughts had been so turbid and unsettled. He wasn't fully convinced that he was 100 percent yet, but at least he had realized that. He had also come to the conclusion that two days was not long enough to accept her death.

_Her._ He could scarcely think of the name without jeopardizing the calm, though unsteady, mental state that he'd tied himself into. Dick had bound his mind like a tourniquet, cutting off any thoughts of her from running red into his thinking. For two blissful weeks, she had been all he lived for. She'd been the very blood that _kept _him living. Now, dangerous as it was, he had to be rid of the thought of her; the memory itself more dangerous to his well being than his job was.

Than what he was about to do.

As he'd raced around Gotham the night before, snatching up any criminal he could find; Dick had gotten wind of a robbery. The more he'd heard about it, the bigger it had gotten, until he'd narrowed it down to a jewelry store in downtown Gotham, where he now waited on the rooftop of the bridal boutique across the street, his mind on the job, and only on the job.

"Batgirl to Nightwing. Where are you?" The comm in his ear crackled. Nightwing pressed it.

"Working. Why?"

"You shouldn't be out here," Batgirl said. Nightwing's jaw tightened angrily and he pressed the comm off again.

_I am sick and tired of people telling me what I can and can't be doing, _he thought furiously, checking his escrima sticks in their holster. He crouched on the roof.

A man approached the corner where the jewelry store sat, and Nightwing watched him closely. He leaned drunkenly against the street lamp on the corner. _A lookout._

Nightwing fired his grappling hook across the street and it embedded itself in the roof of the jewelry store. He tapped the button again and the second grappling hook shot out the opposite end, gripping deep into the concrete at Nightwing's feet and creating a taut zipline. He held fast to the escrima stick and his thumb found the button again, and the line began to retract towards the jewelry store, releasing more line toward the roof of the bridal shop as it did so, in turn pulling the weapon across the street quickly and silently with Nightwing holding tight.

When he reached the opposite roof, Nightwing swung up, and the cording quickly retracted into both ends of the escrima stick; he slipped it back into the holster on his back and ran silently to the other edge of the building. Sure enough, two men knelt by the back door, watching either side of the alleyway. Their accomplices had already entered the building. Gripping the ledge and dropping down to dangle from the roof, Nightwing took a deep breath.

He released the roof, dropping from the first story and landing on the man on the left. He crumpled instantly and Nightwing somersaulted forward, wrapping his arm around the second man's neck, his hand clamping down over his mouth and nose. The guard struggled against his hand, fingernails clawing at the nylon and kevlar glove blocking his air flow until the man's body went limp. Nightwing set him silently on the ground. The criminal's escape van sat idle in the alley, with no driver. A flick of Nightwing's wrist sent a magnetized tracker flying, and it attached to the bumper; just in case one of them escaped.

Nightwing carefully slipped into the building. His finger glanced over a tiny button on his mask, activating his night vision, and he tugged the minicomputer out of his glove pocket. A quick scan of his dark surroundings revealed the deactivated security systems and video cameras. The small jewelry store had only the back room and the front display floor, and Nightwing crossed the back room to the door. He inhaled slowly and then quietly swung the door open just wide enough for him to fit through before closing it behind him. He slipped behind a glass display case.

"-pull this off, we can get the hell out of Gotham," one of the robbers was saying. Nightwing counted four in the room.

"Stop saying 'if' we pull this off, Kaz, it's freaking me out," another whispered.

"Superstitious bastard," the one called Kaz chuckled. "You almost done deactivating the boxes?"

"Give me a minute," a woman whispered. Nightwing slipped along the wall, passing beside her feet in the dark and continuing his way around the room.

"I'm not superstitious!" the first man complained quietly. Kaz snorted.

"You were babbling about ghosts on our ride over here!"

"That was different. So maybe I am superstitious. It saves my life sometimes," he said quietly. "And don't mock me. Ghosts are real."

"Boo," Nightwing hissed near the first man's ear. He screamed loudly, and the woman and Kaz jumped.

"What the hell is wrong with you, Baxtor?!" Kaz growled. Baxtor panted in terror, looking wide-eyed at the corner where he'd heard the voice.

"I heard something!" he cried.

"Keep your voice down, dammit!" the fourth team member finally spoke, his voice menacing and deadly. "Get your imagination in check!"

Nightwing grinned, hidden in the shadows in the far corner of the room. The woman had momentarily stopped her hacking, all four of them spooked by their fellow thief's outburst, and Nightwing saw his opportunity. He laughed.

"What the hell!?" the woman cried, dropping her computer. Nightwing dove out of the way as a pistol with a silencer fired four shots into the corner where he'd been standing. Silence fell again.

"Is it the Batman?" Kaz panted in terror. Nightwing stood up quickly and brought both escrima sticks down on a glass display case. The shatter was deafening, and the sirens that followed were even louder.

"The alarms!" Baxtor cried.

"I didn't finish disabling them!" the woman shouted, bolting for the door. Nightwing stepped in front of her and she screamed, backpedaling into Kaz and sending them both to the floor.

"Nightwing!" she cried, her eyes wide.

"Finally, _someone _gets my name right," he laughed again, as Baxtor tried to rush him. Nightwing leapt into the air and kicked out, his spinning kick connecting with Baxtor's chest. There was an audible _whoosh _as his breath raced out of his lungs, and he was thrown backwards. The other two had scrambled to their feet, and Nightwing brandished both escrima sticks. "I'd like this over quickly, if you don't mind," he hissed.

Kaz ran at him. Nightwing ducked under his wild haymaker, and his elbow connected violently with Kaz's neck, sending the man sprawling forward. The woman threw a punch, and Nightwing leaned out of the way. She kicked his knee out from under him, and Nightwing went with the momentum, falling to his knees and then hitting her in the stomach. She doubled over and he swept her legs with his escrima stick, spinning the other in his hand before pressing the button and bringing it down on her stomach, sending an electric charge through her body.

Kaz howled with anger and tackled Nightwing from behind. They rolled over once, and Nightwing flipped to his feet, the other man already charging him. Kaz threw a wild punch for Nightwing's head, and the escrima stick caught his wrist; Nightwing's other hand shot out, and he drilled Kaz in the gut with the blunt end of the escrima stick. When Kaz cried out, Nightwing used the escrima stick that had blocked the punch to crack the thief across the jaw. Blood sprayed from Kaz's lips, and he fell to the floor, down for the count. Nightwing spun to face Baxtor as he charged him, but he'd been a distraction. The fourth man grabbed Nightwing's arms and wrenched them behind his back as Baxtor swung as hard as he could, his fist connecting with Nightwing's stomach.

He cried out and there was an audible _crack _as his fractured ribs broke under the man's blow. Nightwing bit his tongue and rammed Baxtor's head with his, immediately regretting it as he shouted in pain again; he felt the stitches on his head pop and the room swam before his eyes.

_Headbutting with a concussion… not your bes' idea… _he thought groggily, but Baxtor had fallen back in a daze. Nightwing inhaled deeply and tore his arms from the man behind him, grabbing his hand and twisting it behind his back until he heard it pop out of socket. The man's scream was drowned out by the sound of the alarms clanging through the store. Nightwing angrily grabbed his head, slammed it down on the jewelry counter to knock him out, and whirled on Baxtor as he recovered from the blow to the head. Nightwing rushed him and delivered a fast uppercut. Baxtor's head snapped back and that was it. The four criminals lay bleeding on the marble floor, and Nightwing could hear the sirens of police vehicles approaching. He stepped over Kaz and walked to the front door as he clutched his side. His ribs were definitely broken. _At least three,_ Nightwing thought bitterly and winced as a squad car raced up. Joan stepped out, leveling her gun at him.

"Stop! GCPD!"

"Cool it, Sweetheart, I'm one of the good guys," Nightwing panted irritably. He could feel the blood running down his face from the freshly popped stitches. "Four inside, two out back, and the guard at the front couldn't have gotten far."

He didn't wait for her response before firing a grappling hook into the roof of the bridal shop and retracting it, pulling him up to safety. He wasn't entirely surprised to find Batman standing there waiting for him.

"What happened?!" Batman said in alarm, tilting Nightwing's head to look at his cut.

"Popped the stitches with a headbutt. No big deal." He laughed wryly, but then winced in pain, his hand returning to just under his chest where the ribs had broken. "What are you doing here? Batgirl was nagging me, but I didn't expect it would be _you_ to come get me. What's up?" The cool night air blew Nightwing's dark hair that wasn't stuck down to his forehead with sweat and blood away from his face. The Gotham lights prevented them from seeing any stars, but it was a clear night nonetheless.

"Nightwing what are you doing to yourself?" Batman asked him frustrated.

"Me? _I'm _working. As to what I'm doing to _myself_, I haven't the foggiest idea of what you mean. I don't have time for it, either," Nightwing said, his breathing steadily slowing.

"You're losing control." Batman grabbed his arm. "This isn't healthy; I mean just look at yourself."

Nightwing tore his arm away. "My mirror image reflects what I see in my mentor," he snapped angrily, glaring at Batman.

"Do you really want to be like me?" Batman demanded. "I always wanted better for you."

"Maybe you should have made that clearer," he said icily, walking to the edge of the roof and looking down at the police cars around the jewelry store.

"I don't need another Jason!" Batman yelled. "I just want what's best for you."

"I'm not going to turn into Jason," Nightwing snapped.

"Then what is that?" Batman asked, pointing at the criminals being loaded into ambulances.

"I'm doing my job!" he said again, shouting.

"You're going to end up killing someone!"

"I'm completely in control," Nightwing hissed. "And this is what you wanted, isn't it? Me focused completely on the job."

"But you aren't focused on the job," Batman objected. "You're using _this_," he gestured at the jewelry store below, "as an outlet for your emotions. If you keep this up, someone is going to get hurt."

"Maybe Jason's right. Maybe sometimes people have to get hurt for the greater good." Nightwing said quietly, his hand tightening on the escrima stick at his side. Batman backhanded him across the face. Nightwing's head snapped to the side and he stumbled, seeing stars. Batman had hit him on the already bruised side of his face; sending an explosive pain along his jaw. Nightwing caught himself on the ledge of the building.

"And what if that someone is Damian, me, or Barbara?" he asked darkly. "Think about what losing someone has done to you. Would you do that to someone you don't know?"

Dick breathed hard, the embarrassment and pain fueling the anger in his chest as he looked down at the ground. Blood dripped from his chin. "I can control myself, Batman. Sure, it was a little excessive, but I didn't even come close to taking their lives! They're thieves; I didn't think I had to put a pillow out before knocking them down!"

"Do you remember how I found Jason?" Batman asked evenly, his cape draped forward over his shoulders. Dick thought for a moment and then closed his eyes, too afraid and humiliated to look up.

"Yeah. Stealing the tires off of the Batmobile."

"He was a thief," Batman said angrily. "I never thought I'd have to teach this lesson to _you_, of all of my sons."

Nightwing still didn't look up, the heat in his cheeks spreading over his forehead. Blood still ran from the freshly opened cut on his scalp, and the entire left half of his face throbbed.

"Sir," Alfred interrupted over the comm.

"What is it?" Batman demanded. "Now is not a good time."

"Bruce Wayne has a call, Sir. I think you will want to take this." Batman closed his eyes for a second.

"We are not through," he told Nightwing. "Patch it to me," he said in a forced voice to Alfred. After a few seconds a new voice sounded over the comm.

"Mr. Wayne?" a man asked. Nightwing rolled his eyes and crossed his arms.

"Yes, what is it?"

"I'm the Director of Arkham. I'm sorry to call you so late, but there has been a development that has occurred, and as a chairperson of the board, I thought you should know before it hits the news."

"What happened?" Batman asked.

"A villain turned herself into Arkham this evening." Nightwing uncrossed his arms. "Harley Quinn." His breath stuck in his throat as Batman turned to him. "And you will not believe who she is," the man finished.

"Try me," Batman said.


	7. Look At Me

_**Harley Quinn is alive.**_

_**And now Dick Grayson knows it. He'd been fading, going off of the deep end in his blind mourning and rage. Now she's alive, she survived the fall, and he's even more lost than he had been before. She's back.**_

_**Caught with mixed emotions, Dick goes to confront her. How can he forgive her? Harley Quinn has brutally murdered and hurt- but Harleen Quinzel was loving and simple and… perfect. There has to be a happy medium.**_

Dick wanted to be angry. As his boots clicked along the spotless linoleum floor, the sickly sweet antiseptic scent filling his nostrils; he wanted to hate her. To hate the situation that he was in. The doctor that was leading him to the cells in Arkham stopped outside of a door.

"Down this hallway, Officer. Second from the end, on your left," he said curtly, sliding his card through the reader and opening the door for him. Dick nodded politely. His footsteps echoed in the hall as he walked slowly toward her cell. These were unlike ones in any other asylum, with barred doors like prison cells; the rooms were furnished much better than they would have been in a prison, though. With his hands in his jean pockets, Dick's footfalls slowed to a stop outside of her cell.

Harley heard the boots stop just outside of the bars, and the silence returned, only broken by the soft hissing of the air conditioning vent in the corner of her cell. She sat at the far wall from the bars with her knees tucked into her chest. Her head was bent down with her hair falling like a curtain in her face. She didn't need to peek to know who it was. The air carried the familiar scent of his Axe Apollo cologne with it. She'd assumed that he would come when she admitted herself; she just wasn't sure that she wanted to face him just yet.

Dick was silent for a while, just watching her. Making sure that she was there, really _there_, and not some dream. Her shoulders moved up and down gently with her breathing, and there was a long gash across one of her arms crossed across her knees. He bit his lip. "Won't you look up?" he asked weakly. She tilted her head to the side a little, and her hair swayed, but she said nothing. Dick smacked the bar with his palm, and Harley flinched at the loud sound. He gripped the bar, his voice thick. "_Look _at me_._"

Harley didn't move.

Dick leaned his head against the bars, closing his eyes against the tears. "Please," he begged her quietly. Harley could feel the tears welling up in her eyes, and she wanted nothing more than to look at him, but she couldn't do it. She didn't think she would be able to stay strong after seeing his face. Dick slid to his knees, his head still hung and resting against her cell door. "When I found out who you were, I didn't want anything more than to go back to before. I could've swung on the trapeze with you forever. I would've lived on that boat with you for the rest of my life. I wanted to dance with you for eternity. But when you…" he trailed off, lowering his voice to a hoarse whisper. "When Batman thought you'd died… I realized that I didn't care. I would've taken you either way, as the Lee I knew or as the criminal you are; just as long as I got to see you again."

Hot tears fell silently into Harley's lap. She hadn't expected Dick to have changed his mind. She had expected him to be furious with her. She thought he would yell and scream, and she felt like she couldn't breathe as her head spun. _What does he think of me?_ Dick's shoulders shook silently, and he laughed a little, rubbing the tears from his eyes.

"You have no idea how much I fantasized about holding you again," he laughed through his crying. His head dipped even lower, his eyebrows knit together in pain. She closed her eyes and dug her fingers into her legs. He was making it so hard to not run to him. He looked up, his hands on either side of his head, gripping the bars. Tears ran down his cheeks.

"Please just _look_ at me, Harley," he begged. One of her fingers twitched when he said her name. He couldn't see the anguish on her face behind her hair as she bit back everything she wanted to say. Dick looked down again.

"I didn't want to believe it, when Bruce told me. Of course, why would I? One of my biggest regrets, though, was the last thing I said to you." He looked up at her, wishing she would answer him, and then continued on. "I'm so sorry. I was hurt and confused and _scared_- I said a lot of things I didn't mean. And I didn't say a lot of things I should have."

_Don't apologize, _she screamed inside her head, hating herself for letting him take the blame like he was. _She_ had kidnapped Batman. _She _had chosen the Joker. And _she_ was the one to blame for what had happened. _Don't be sorry for anything_, she pleaded with him silently.

"I'm sorry for everything," he whispered, covering his face with his hands. "I could have handled things so much better, and I was so angry that I let it dictate…" He trailed off. "I'm sorry that I said I 'loved' you. It was a lie. I shouldn't have threatened you. And… I should have said _no._ When you asked me if I was choosing to be blind to your insanity? I'm not. I can't be blind to who you are. I can only learn to love it," he said, sounding pained. "I have to try."

Harley felt like her heart was being torn apart and put back together all at the same time. She had been sure that Dick would hate her and be disgusted with her after what she had done, but this was worse. It was everything she wanted, and she knew she didn't deserve it. He _should_ hate her.

"Losing you hurt more than all of the pain you ever caused me as Nightwing," Dick confessed, swallowing the lump in his throat. He hated crying in front of her, but he couldn't help the overwhelming emotion that had overcome him. He was panicked, relieved, exhausted, afraid, confused, and upset all at the same time. His hands dropped away from the bars into his lap.

_And not choosing you was the biggest mistake I ever made_, she answered in her head.

"I know that I was horrible to you the last time we spoke, and I know that I don't deserve it, don't deserve _you_, but… I don't want to get over you, Harley. I don't know that I'd know how if I tried." Dick said shakily, taking a deep, shuddering breath. He looked up again, wiping the tears off of his cheeks. He ran a hand through his hair, watching her. Her breathing was slow as she tried to steady it.

_You deserve better than me_, she thought to herself, thinking of everything she'd done over her years with the Joker. She had done more unspeakable things than she could put into words. There was no way she could rectify all the wrong she had done and even be worthy to _look_ at him. She remained frozen as the tears streamed down her face. Dick watched her for any sign of acknowledgement, but she continued to sit with her head bent. He wiped his cheeks as he stood.

"Please, _please _look at me." He whispered. She turned her head to the side, away from him, and he still couldn't see her face. Dick bit his lip. "You were right. Falling _is _just like flying. I've fallen completely for you, Harley, and I'm not giving up on you." He waited by the bars a second longer, and then turned and walked back down the hallway.

"I'm not worth falling for," Harley whispered, thinking Dick was out of earshot. He stopped in his tracks and closed his eyes.

"You're worth it to me." He said over his shoulder, before continuing on. Harley listened to his boots until the door at the far end of the hall opened, and the footsteps faded away. She leaned her head back against the wall and tried to blink some of the tears away.

"And you're worth everything to me," she whispered to the silence. Him being there had been harder than she had expected, and she had never wanted anything more than to be with him somewhere far away from all of their problems. But she couldn't.

The door at the end of the hall opened again, and footsteps slowly approached her cell again. Harley continued to stare at the ceiling as the person came to a stop outside her cell.

"I think it's time for your session, Miss Quinzel," a female voice told her. Harley smiled to herself and rolled her head forward to stare at the redhead before her.

"If you say so Dr. Isley."

When Dick pulled into his driveway on his motorcycle, he curiously lifted his helmet off of his head. Will and Joan were leaning against Will's car, talking quietly. They fell silent when he cut the engine on his motorcycle.

"What are you two doing here?" Dick asked.

"We figured you could _really _use a drink." Joan smiled, her silky brown hair falling over her glasses. Will shoved his hands in his jacket pockets, and Dick looked at his watch.

"It's not even noon, on a Wednesday," he said confusedly.

"Will gave me a scenario where drinking at noon on a Wednesday would be perfectly acceptable," Joan said, glancing at Will. "It went something like 'your girlfriend dumps you and then turns out to be a psychopathic killer.'"

"Way to put it lightly, Joan," Will muttered. "Gordon assigned me to show her the ropes while you were suspended," he said, shrugging. "We got put on nights for the rest of the week, and figured you could use a drink, as she said it, after watching the news this morning."

Dick looked between the two of them. "Yeah. Yeah, I could use a pick-me-up."

Will blinked, surprised. "Really?"

"Yeah. Lead the way. Someplace with burgers, though, I'm starving."

"You're riding in back," Will told him, pulling open the back door of the squad car. Dick smiled and slid into the back seat. Joan got in the passenger seat and closed the door behind her, glancing through the metal barrier at Dick.

"Lookin' good back there, kid," she smirked, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Dick rolled his eyes.

"Thanks," he said distractedly, making sure he hadn't missed any calls from Bruce as Will got into the car.

"You're going to respond to that nickname?" he asked. "Not manly." Dick shrugged, slipping his phone into his pocket. He glanced at Joan, an eyebrow raised. She wore dark wash denim jeans and a t-shirt for a band he'd never heard of.

"I gotta say, Joan, outside of the force you look like a regular college kid. Usually women on the force are clean-cut and kind of hardasses." He sat back in his seat, stretching out his arms to either side. Joan rolled her eyes.

"Thanks, I guess?" she chuckled.

"Am I taking you to get over an ex-girlfriend, or chaperoning?" Will asked.

"Girlfriend," Dick corrected him.

"Excuse me?!" Will snapped his head over to look at Dick.

"Not ex. For the moment, anyway," he added, blinking in surprise.

"We are still talking about the psycho in Arkham, right?" Joan asked.

"Yes. Girlfriend." Dick nodded.

"Seriously?" Will demanded. "I mean as Lee she was nice enough, but Harley Quinn?!"

"It's complicated," Dick muttered, crossing his arms.

"I'll say," Will muttered.

"So it _is_ a good thing we're going for drinks," Joan chipped in.

"I'm fine, Will, really." Dick took a deep breath, thought for a moment, and then smiled. "I am."

"Well I'm not fine with this." Will gripped the steering wheel.

"What's the problem?" he asked, though he knew he probably didn't want to hear the answer.

"Consider who you are." Will glared at him before returning his attention to the road. "She is Harley Quinn. How long did you even know about this?"

"I found out two days ago," Dick muttered quietly. "Just before I crashed my car, actually."

"Is that what happened to your face?" Joan interjected curiously. Dick looked at her, smiling a little.

"What exactly did you think happened?"

"I figured you were just a hardcore badass cop, really," she shrugged.

"Do not change the subject," Will interposed. "Harley freaking Quinn!"

"Yeah, Will! Harley Quinn!" Dick cried, exasperated. "And is it _really _that surprising?! I mean practically half the city's population either plays cartoon villain or vigilante. I'm more surprised it wasn't someone like Poison Ivy or _something_," he said, crossing his arms again. Will took one hand off the wheel to rub his temple.

"Have you even thought this through?"

"When have you known me to think things through?" Dick asked, looking out the window. Seeing Harley, no matter where she was as long as she was _alive_, had lifted his spirits considerably. He didn't know what he was going to do, or what his next step was; he just wanted to be glad he hadn't lost her for a while.

"My four year old is less impulsive," Will muttered.

"I can already tell I'm going to like you two," Joan commented from the passenger seat.

"You know me," Dick kicked Will's seat. "And I've only thought one thing through."

"And what's that?"

"I still love her."

"Dick!" Will slammed his head into the headrest.

"What!?" he cried. "It's not like I can help it!"

"Anyone else could," Will told him.

Dick fell silent, biting his lip. He looked down, and Joan glanced over her shoulder at him.

"I don't know much about the situation, but I'm gonna side with Will here. This girl sounds like a bona-fide nutcase."

Dick sighed. "Maybe." Will suddenly slapped the steering wheel.

"And what about the Joker?" he asked. "Aren't they a package deal?"

"Oh come on!" Dick protested.

"What? She is the Joker's girl," Will insisted.

"Don't say that," Dick said quietly.

"It's a fair question," Will persisted in a quieter tone.

"I know, I just…" Dick looked down and rubbed his temples in frustration. "I don't know."

"Just think about it," Will told him, letting it drop.

Dick put his hands in his lap and looked at them sadly. He _hadn't _thought about that. About the Joker. He still didn't want to, either.

"Are we there yet? Because I don't know about you two, but I could sure use that drink," Joan broke the silence. Dick nodded.

"Then it's a good thing we're here," Will said, pulling to a stop in front of a bar. They all went in and took a seat in a booth, Will sliding into the seat across from Dick and Joan dropping onto the leather next to him. The bar was relatively empty. Two men sat at the bar while a couple were at a corner booth eating their food.

"So you googled me," Joan smiled. Dick glanced at her.

"You heard that?"

"You think I can be that smart and not pick up on what you two were talking about?" She smirked, pulling the drink menu across the table to her. Dick smiled a little.

"Impressive resume."

"Same with you two," she winked, shrugging her brown hair in a silky wave over her shoulder. "Small town turned city cop and the circus boy adopted by a billionaire. How did you two end up partners?"

"Unlucky I guess." Will shrugged with a smile. "Then again, someone has to make sure Grayson doesn't get himself killed."

"And nobody else in the department wanted that job," Dick grinned.

"It was a sacrifice I had to make," Will said wistfully before smiling.

"If anyone has to make sure their partner doesn't get killed it's _me_." Dick nudged Will across the table, laughing.

"I don't know what you're talking about. You've never saved me," Will said slyly.

"It's not awkward at all outside all of these jokes," Joan muttered, tucking her hair behind her ear. Dick smiled and leaned back in the seat.

"Don't worry. Hang around us for a while and you'll be in on them in no time."

"Howdy. I'm Darren and I'll be your server tonight," a male waiter appeared at the edge of the table. He was wearing a deep black v-neck over light washed skinny jeans. He pulled out a pen from behind his ear, flipped his bangs out of his face, and smiled brightly at Dick. "What can I get y'all ta drink now?"

"I'll just have a wine cooler," Joan smiled at him, crossing her arms on the table. Dick glanced down at the drink menu.

"I'll take a Bud," Will interrupted Dick, and he looked up.

"Just water for me," Dick added.

"Sure thang sugar," the man drawled and winked at Dick before walking back to the bar.

"He didn't call me sugar," Will complained.

Dick laughed. "That's because I'm the cute one."

"I'm starting to get offended how we can't go anywhere without you getting hit on," Will joked with him. "Sure I'm married, but I would like the attention every once and awhile."

"Does he really get hit on wherever you two go?" Joan remarked.

"Yes," Will told her, ignoring the look on Dick's face.

"I do not!" Dick protested.

"Yet you choose to date the murderous psychopath…" Joan said offhandedly, and Dick glared at her, tapping his fingers irritably on the plastic coated, slightly sticky table. Will nodded in agreement.

"I thought we'd settled this." Dick muttered.

"Fine." Joan shrugged, paused; then looked at Dick. "You _really _get hit on everywhere you go?"

He cried out in exasperation. "No!" he snapped as Will answered "Yes!"

"Really? With the hair and the arms and-"

"I do _not!"_ Dick shouted as Will and Joan laughed, and Darren returned to the table with their drinks.

"Here's your drink, darlin," he winked at Dick, who promptly dropped his head onto the table.


	8. You Did, Once

_**Dick could be Harley's redemption.**_

_**At least, HE thinks so. Harley would be content if she remained locked up where she could never hurt him again, and his family would be happy with that outcome as well. Dick refuses to stop trying, he knows there's still good in her; but is there?**_

_**Bruce and the rest of his family stage an intervention to attempt to talk some sense into Dick, but he won't hear it. As the conversation spirals out of control, new information comes to light within the family, pushing the envelope of their trust for one another.**_

"Damian! I'm home…" Dick called; his footsteps echoed in the large open foyer. He ran a hand through his hair, wondering where everyone could be in the silence of the mansion. "Hello?" He dithered, walking further into the mansion. As he stepped into the parlor, Dick stopped. "Hello," he said again. Bruce sat in a high wing-back chair, his hands crossed in his lap. Damian stood behind him, his hands tucked behind his back, with Tim over Bruce's other shoulder, leaning lazily on the chair. Barbara was away from Tim, sitting on a footrest with her legs crossed. She met Dick's eyes and then looked away in disappointment. Alfred, too, stood beside Damian, his eyebrows knit in concern. Dick looked between the five of them. "Okay. And this is… what, a surprise birthday party? Sorry, you're a little late…" he trailed off.

"I think we need to talk," Bruce told him sternly.

"Oh God not again," Dick threw his head back, groaning in frustration. "Guy's I'm okay. I don't need… whatever this is."

"Are you sure?" Tim asked. "Because your girlfriend turned out to be a criminal psycho, died, and came back from the dead to go to prison."

Dick thought for a moment, shoving his hands in his jacket pockets. He smiled a little. "...Yeah. I'm okay." Dick smiled thoughtfully.

"And that's what scares me," Barbara said.

"Whatever, Babs, like _you're _in a perfectly healthy emotional state right now." Dick rolled his eyes. "Like any of us are! I'm just saying I'm happy. Can't I be happy?"

"No," Damian deadpanned.

"Just because you hate absolutely everyone doesn't mean that I have to," Dick retorted.

"We want you to be happy, Master Richard," Alfred said. "But you're worrying us."

Dick's face softened. "Why am I worrying you guys? I got some sleep last night, ate all my meals today… things are looking up for me."

"You crashed your car into a tree, and spent two days as a complete wreck over this girl, Dick," Bruce reminded. "Are you sure this is what you want?"

"I'm sure," Dick answered immediately. Damian didn't flinch, but Tim blinked in surprise, and Barbara stood up quickly, her red hair tumbling over her shoulder.

"This is insane," she objected.

"No," Jason said, walking into the room. "Dick's girlfriend is insane."

"I think you all are," Damian muttered irritably. Dick rolled his eyes.

"Okay, _you_ of all people are going to lecture me about my love life?"

"Hey, I'm just here for moral support. And possibly some rhyming cheers." Jason flopped onto the couch.

"Jason you are not help-" Bruce started, but he was interrupted by Barbara as she stormed up to Dick.

"She is a murderer!" Barbara snapped, her nose scrunched in anger as she looked him in the eyes. Dick raised an eyebrow coolly.

"So is Damian," he replied.

"No denial here," Damian shrugged.

"She's a criminal," Barbara protested.

"Sitting right here," Jason waved.

"You can't win in this family." Tim warned her.

Jason sat up on his elbows, "And don't even try on the whole dating aspect of it because you can tell that one to Catwoman."

"That's not-" Bruce blushed angrily, his sentence drowned out by Barbara's sudden shouting.

"Am I the only person here who is actually concerned with Dick's mental and physical well being!?" she cried, looking around the room.

"Don't speak, Barbara, you bore me," Damian yawned, walking to the door.

"Damian stop," Bruce stood. Damian looked over his shoulder, and Tim took a step away from Bruce, sensing the confrontation arising. Bruce glared him down. "We all need to talk about this, no matter our feelings toward the situation." He glanced at Barbara.

"Fire away," Jason told Bruce. "I've got my listening ears on." He put a pillow over his face.

"I can't tell you how to live your life," Bruce ignored everyone else and stared at Dick, "nor do I want to. But we need to discuss everything that this means for this family."

"Shoot," Dick nodded eagerly. "I'm ready to hear what you have to say."

Barbara snapped, "She's a murderous psychopathic bitch who is going to get you killed, or worse; get us all killed and then laugh right alongside her clown lover when she's the one doing the killing. You're a dumbass, you're blind to this because you think you love her, and you're a danger to us all."

"Well that hurt." Dick looked at her.

Jason shot him a '_what the hell!?' _face over her shoulder and Damian shook his head. "It _is _true, though I would have said it without the colorful profanities of a jealous ex."

"She admitted herself into Arkham, right?" Tim asked. "That has to count for something?"

"_He's _on my side," Dick glared at Barbara, walking over to stand beside Tim.

"No one is taking sides here, Dick. She has some good points, and you need to consider them, but I'll say that it is your choice." Bruce tried to mediate.

"And you know what I'm going to choose." He replied quickly before Barbara could say anything. She crossed her arms angrily, cocking her hip.

"Then we are going to take this seriously." Bruce shot a warning glance at Barbara. "What exactly does Harley Quinn know?"

Dick looked Bruce in the eyes, biting his lip. "I… think she knows most of it," he said carefully. "But I'm not sure."

Tim looked between them, his eyes narrowed; he knew that he was missing something, he just didn't know what. Barbara, too, crossed her arms over her chest and watched them carefully, while Damian bent down to pick up his cat. Barbara pursed her lips.

"She knows what?"

"Considering she called Batman 'Brucey'," Bruce said with distaste, "and I am positive she knows that Dick is Nightwing, so we'll just assume she has her bases fairly well covered."

"Yes." Dick answered, nodding. Damian ignored them all, walking to the windows and stroking his cat. Tim looked down.

"She knows who we all are?"

"So we can assume the Joker knows," Barbara spat.

"Now hold on, Babs, I don't think she told him," Dick protested.

"She practically worships the Joker. Of course she told him!" Barbara crossed her arms and glared accusingly at Dick.

"Hey!" Dick shouted at her angrily, pointing a finger at her. "I'm getting a little sick of you attacking me personally, okay!? I know the situation is my fault, but I'm trying to clean up my mess!"

"Besides," Damian added, "I'm fairly certain some of this is Jason's fault." Jason bolted upright.

"You little devil. Keep me out of this!"

Damian smirked, stroking his cat as it purred in his arms. "I don't remember you getting an invitation to the party, Todd, but there you were," Damian hissed knowingly.

"I will torture you until you are begging for-"

"-Jason!" Bruce cut him off. "What did you do?"

"I was threatening her criminal to criminal!" Jason tried to defend himself. "How was I supposed to know her and pretty boy were going to have a moment?"

Barbara's cheeks flushed in anger and jealousy as Dick looked down. "Guys, I'm trying my best here to stay positive, but you're making it _really _hard…"

"That was a _very _stupid thing to do, Jason," Bruce said in disappointment, which almost hurt Jason worse than if he'd been angry.

"Hey, at least he didn't try to kill her," Tim amended. "That's a big step in the right direction."

Dick smiled at Tim, grateful for his positive attitude.

"All the same," Bruce shook his head. "If she had only found out about Dick, we may not be in this situation."

"I agree," Barbara said flatly. Though her words were directed at Jason, she glared evenly at Dick.

"They're both idiots," Damian decided, and then whispered to his cat. "They upset me too, Alfred…" The cat pawed his face and mewed as it clawed his shirt, climbing up to sit on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry if me finding out that Dick's girlfriend is a psycho isn't in my handbook of 'shit I know how to deal with'!" Jason snapped.

"An unsurprisingly _small _volume," Damian added to the side, and Dick rubbed his temples.

"Jay, you're really not helping your case here," he said, and then ran a hand through his hair. "You could have just left it alone, and let me handle it."

"And you handled it so well," Jason mocked. "She got pushed out a window."

Dick stared at him, pained, and Tim threw a sofa pillow at Jason. "Dude!" he cried. "Why the hell would you say something like that? God, Jason you're such an _ass_!"

"Language, Master Drake, _please_-"

"Yes, we all agree he's illiterate, Pennyworth, only proved by the fact that he just used the word 'dude'..." Damian muttered from the windows again.

"Damian I swear to God you little _demon_-" Tim began, but Dick cut him off as he snapped at Jason.

"-You just have to fire off the insults, don't you Jay? You can't just leave it at that, you always have to have the last word. Ever the _middle child_-"

"-and you're always trying to _handle _us. Ever the _eldest child_. Can't you just deal with the fact that you're the problem child right now?"

"I am not!" Dick cried defensively.

"My vote is still on Todd," Damian added aside again, not caring to inject himself in the conversation, but still speaking loud enough that his remarks could be heard.

"Enough," Bruce yelled. The room fell silent immediately. "None of you are problems, and no one is to blame." He glared at each one of them in turn, including Barbara. "Now can we please focus on the matter at hand?"

Dick and Tim nodded, Barbara mumbled a yes, and Damian and Jason reluctantly agreed as well. They all looked at Bruce for instruction.

"Dick," Bruce's eyes roamed over to him, "do you think she told the Joker?"

"No," Dick answered flatly, his hands on his hips.

"You can't know that," Barbara hissed. Dick's shoulders shot up to his ears and he glared at her angrily.

"I'm fairly certain, then," he snapped, his dark hair falling over his eyes. He flicked it back. "Where is the Joker now? If he'd found out who we were, he would have come by now."

"I don't know," Tim said. "Attempted homicide doesn't exactly encourage sharing."

"Then there's _that_," Dick said triumphantly, pointing at Tim as he glared Barbara down. "_Thank you_, Tim."

"Yes thank you Tim." Jason slapped him on the shoulder. "For demonstrating your specialty of kissing Dick's ass."

"Jason," Bruce snapped before looking at Dick again. "Did she say anything to you when you went to visit her today?"

"You did what?" Barbara exclaimed.

"No. She wouldn't say a word to me," Dick said, biting his lip as he thought back on seeing her in that cell. He ignored Barbara completely.

"Ouch," Jason muttered.

"So we will assume the Joker doesn't know," Bruce said.

"I think you're all being ridiculous about this!" Barbara shrieked.

"I agree," Dick said, and then added "Not with Babs, with Bruce. I don't think she told him anything. I'm going to keep trying, see if I can coax her to talk."

"She didn't tell him!" Jason cried in exasperation at all of them. "She kept her end of the bargain!"

"She… _what_!?" Dick cried, whirling on Jason, wide eyed. Everyone turned to Jason, and even Damian looked up in surprise as Dick grabbed Jason's coat collar, dragging him to his feet. "What have you done, Jason!? Who have you been talking to!?" he shouted, shaking him violently.

"Careful with the jacket," Jason complained. "I only knew she was alive for like a day or two before you found out, okay?"

"That was the day after she _died_!" Dick screamed, slamming him against the wall. Despite their height difference, Dick was actually overpowering him; lifting his feet off of the ground. "You knew!? You knew and you didn't say _anything _you son of a bitch!"

"You were going to find out eventually, and she asked me not to. She had been pushed out of a window; I wasn't going to say no to that!" Jason cried, growing a bit panicked.

"When were you with her!? God damn it Jason, who were you-" he punched Jason across the face "-talking to!?" Dick demanded, still holding the lapels of his coat and slamming him against the wall again.

"Dick!" Tim and Bruce grabbed his arms and pulled him off of Jason.

"Ah," Jason groaned. "You better not have broken anything." Dick kicked Jason in the stomach as Bruce and Tim pulled him away.

"I hope I did," he spat angrily, pulling his arms away from them. He glared down at Jason. "Answer me."

"Well, if you would stop attacking me for five seconds."

"Jay, you deserve to have your nose broken every time you speak," Dick said. "Answer the damn question. Who have you been talking to?"

"I've been trying to get Poison Ivy to talk since I know her and the Joker are planning something. I went to find out if she knew if Harley had said anything to the Joker the morning after the incident. Protecting the family first and all that jazz." He glanced at Bruce. "She had Harley with her, looking pretty good for someone who just fell a couple stories," he added. Everyone in the room stared at him, and the only sound in the silence was the smack of Tim's palm hitting his forehead.

"You… Jeez, Jason…" he muttered.

"And you're all worried about _me_ getting into it with the wrong people," Dick said. Damian glanced up boredly from the cat on his lap.

"In Todd's defense, he didn't want to tell you."

"Hey, I never claimed I was good," Jason said shrugging.

"You did, once," Bruce said quietly, not looking at any of them, his dark brow furrowed in pain. His statement sunk in in the silence. Jason tried to hide it, but he was hurt, and they could all see it in his face. Damian ignored them all as the cat purred loudly, and Alfred watched the five of them in painful resignation and silence. "Dick," Bruce finally said. "Next time you speak to her, evaluate where her loyalties lie. She didn't tell the Joker what she'd discovered; and by now she's most likely severed her thoughts of him. She may be willing to help us."

Dick nodded curtly, biting his lip and stealing a glance at Jason, who stared at the floor in anger and humiliation. Barbara snorted at the thought of Harley Quinn helping them. "I can do that," Dick agreed.

"Now can I leave, Father? Or must I withstand more of these people?" Damian asked in a bored voice. Bruce nodded.

"You may go, Damian." He allowed, and Damian stood gracefully and strode from the room, his cat on his shoulder. Alfred looked down. Tim cleared his throat awkwardly and followed Damian out of the room with Barbara on his heels.

"I think we've all had enough for one night," Bruce said before walking slowly from the room. Alfred followed. Dick turned and looked at Jason, who rubbed his hands on his pants awkwardly.

"I'm sorry I hit you," Dick said quietly.

"Let's be honest, I deserved it." Jason smiled a little. Dick smiled too, putting a hand on Jason's shoulder and looking him seriously in the eyes.

"You _are _good. You can keep telling yourself different, but it's not going to change what I know. What we all know."

"I don't think I'm the one you should be worrying about who's confused with their morality right now," Jason told him seriously. After a moment, he added quietly, "She was really upset."

Dick closed his eyes sadly and nodded. "I know. I want to help her, Jason, I need to."

"She needs you, too." Jason said, and narrowed his eyes. "And one more thing."

"Yeah?"

"Don't _ever_ touch my jacket again."


	9. Do You Regret It?

_**A plan is in motion.**_

_**Poison Ivy has her own motivation to help the Joker's with his plan, but that doesn't mean she has to enjoy working with him. Her blueprint is lining up perfectly so far, and nothing is going to get in her way.**_

_**The Joker is losing his mind, if he hadn't already lost it. Delusions of love that he never knew he had for Harley are blurring his entire reality, and he only has one way to fix the obsession. A temporary fix, but a fix nonetheless.**_

Ivy sauntered past some of the Joker's men, too annoyed to be pleased with how they watched her walk away. She pushed open the door to the Joker's study.

"I _do not_ like being summoned. Nor do you have the right to," she snapped. Joker spun his chair around, smiling at her.

"Yet here you are," he stated.

"What do you want?" Ivy hissed.

"You're a part of my plan," he told her, standing up. "You _are_ my plan." He paced around her. "And I don't like being distanced from it."

"Fine. What do you want to know, you little freak?" The Joker smiled, like she'd just called him a term of endearment.

"Just how things are going. That's all." He ran one hand along the lapel of his jacket. "Any complications? Any _acquaintances_?" he hissed.

"You called me here because your little girlfriend is in Arkham. Not my department," she snapped.

"Have you seen her?" he demanded. Ivy glared at him.

"No."

He growled, looking like he was going to lunge at her- Ivy wished he'd try- before restraining himself.

"You try my patience," he said shortly, his clenched fists shaking. "_Why _is she _alive_!?" he shouted, kicking over his desk chair.

"I'm not the one who tried to kill her." Ivy leaned against the desk.

"I don't give a damn who or what you are, Poison Ivy, I want to know _how_ she lived." Joker turned slowly, glaring at her over his shoulder.

"What was that thing about you killing people up close so you can feel they're life leave them? Did you actually make sure she was dead?" She sounded bored.

"Why would I want-" he stopped short, his head cocking a bit. His hands twitched at his sides and then he waved them, shaking his head. "No, no, that isn't right," he muttered, fidgeting nervously. "There was no way she could have survived that."

"Well I guess you're losing your touch. I _did_ come up with this new plan of ours." Ivy smirked at him. Joker whirled on her.

"Don't tell me my business, whore! I have my _own _plans in motion," he snapped furiously, advancing toward her. He again stopped short and turned away, cocking his head, as if listening to something. "Shut up…" he hissed quietly, his fists clenching.

"You know, if you keep talking to yourself, people might think you're crazy," Ivy told him. He glanced at her, twitching; as if every word she said infuriated him.

"Find out how she lived."

"That's not my job. Don't you have little puppets for that sort of thing?" She waved her hand at the door.

"I want you to do it," he breathed, crossing his arms after smoothing his hair. The curls fell back in front of his face. "Unless you're incapable of completing a simple task, of course."

"No can do, boy-o." Ivy stretched her arms above her head. "The medical director is a bit suspicious of me. I've got to keep my head down."

"I'll take care of that," he waved his hand dismissively. "I make one phone call and it's done." Ivy eyed him suspiciously. "Now what can _you _do for _me_!? Right! Find out how she survived that fall!" the Joker shouted furiously, taking a step towards her.

"You're the one who pushed her. Why do you care?" Ivy snapped, her back stiff. The Joker's jaw clenched.

"Stop _saying _that."

"Why? Do you _regret_ it?"

"Stop bringing it up!" he shouted.

"You're the one who keep asking me to look into it," Ivy countered.

"And you're the second-rate criminal who can't do as she's told," he hissed, face to face with her. Her phermones were useless, and he wasn't afraid.

"I'm the _second-rate_ criminal who is making your plan work." She stood up, cocking her hip. "All those plans you have in motion? _Nothing_ without me."

"I'd figure something out," he snapped, and then closed his eyes. "I _need _to know how she lived- Ivy," the Joker said slowly. It was the first time he'd actually said her name without utter disdain in his voice.

"Why should I do you any favors?" Ivy didn't soften a bit.

"I need to know," he repeated weakly, turning his back on her.

"As in professional curiosity so you can kill her properly the next time?" Ivy pried.

Joker was silent for a long time, standing utterly still as he crossed his arms tightly. He didn't look at her or turn around. "It was an accident," he finally said, his voice wavering. Ivy watched him suspiciously.

"You accidentally pushed someone out of window?"

"It wasn't supposed to be like that," he whispered. "I didn't mean- She just- I was just so angry, and…" he closed his eyes, biting down on his tongue as he covered his ears. "She was never supposed to _die _and now she won't stop _talking_-" he let out a wheezing laugh, tugging on the hair at his temples.

"There you go. That's the reason. You're _crazy_."

"I am _not _crazy!" he screamed furiously, pressing down harder on his ears.

"Pretty sure there's a cell with your name on it in Arkham. Maybe then you can see your little girlfriend again." Ivy brushed an imaginary speck of dust off her arm.

"I am not crazy," he repeated darkly, turning on her. Tears cut lines down his face through his makeup. "You want to talk about what makes a person crazy, what kind of a past does that- Harley's lined up. Mine never did. _Don't_ call me crazy. Sweetheart, you don't know what crazy _is_."

"Oh I do." She moved closer to him. "It's not killing you right here and now. And don't _ever_ call me Sweetheart."

"I can call you whatever I want," he snapped. "You're under my employ. Don't think I don't know about your ulterior motives for getting into Arkham."

"You don't know anything." Ivy gave him a bit of a smile, moving back over to the desk and looking at the mess of papers he had scattered about. He followed her and slammed his hand down over the drawings and notes, but not before she'd seen several mediocre drawings of Harley.

"I know more than you think I know, Dr. Isley, honest," he said earnestly, as if they were in a therapy session. "I know that you want to break Bane out of Arkham. I know about your street informants; their names and their locations, their specialties." He cocked his head a bit, his face inches from hers and twisted in fury. "I know about your soft spot- your affections towards the broken one. The bloodied, damned Robin boy, calling himself _Red Hood._"

"I'm not very impressed. I expected better," Ivy admitted. "You completely missed my desire to kill you and that the _Robin_ annoys me."

"What's the fun in stating the obvious?" he waved a hand dismissively, twirling a razor-edged Joker card between his fingers. "Tell me, Ivy, how fast do you heal with this antitoxin of yours?"

Before she could react, the Joker had slashed across her forearm with the card, a laugh rising in his throat. Ivy hissed, grabbing the wound.

"I will kill you where you stand."

Joker genuinely laughed this time, grabbing a handful of her hair and twisting it in. His gloves blocked the poison of her touch. "No, you _won't _actually," he whispered. "Call it intuition, but I think you're biding your time. Until what, I don't know, but you are _definitely _hiding something. You won't kill me," he grinned devilishly above her, yanking her hair as he let her go. She straightened back up, arching her back.

"You're right. I won't. _Yet_."

He ignored her words and grabbed her forearm, examining it. The cut had already mostly healed, and a grin spread across his face. "Fascinating," he laughed, releasing her. "Just… fascinating."

"Mr. J?" A voice came from the hall, and Ivy froze. The heavy metal door scraped open and a harlequin hooded head poked through, hat tips dangling from a painted white face. Ivy's breath came out in a hiss at the sight of her. Joker glanced with satisfaction at Ivy's reaction, and then turned to the impostor.

"Harley Dear, what is it now? Can't you see I'm entertaining a guest?" he asked lightly, giggling a bit at his own words. The new Harley Quinn shook her head.

"Sorry, I just wanted to-"

"-Step in, Dear, and speak up." Joker snapped irritably. She quickly jumped into the room.

"The things you ordered? They're all here!" she said brightly. She was shorter than her predecessor and had wider hips, the curves accentuated by the black and red contrasting costume. The Joker clapped excitedly.

"Delightful. Thank you, Harley," he waved her away, with a glance at Ivy. "Do visit again. I enjoy our talks." Ivy strode toward the door, with not a glance at either of them.


	10. I Hate to Interrupt

_**Harley is the key.**_

_**To Dick, she's an escape. A window to fly through, a bliss that he finds in no one else. He can't let her go; if he does, he might fall. To Batman, she's the one way to the Joker. She knew his plans, and she knew his motivation. Through Dick, Batman sees her use.**_

_**To the Joker, she's a distraction. Harley's survival has consumed his imagination, leaving him to wonder how she survived the 'accident' he caused. Alas, his plans must come first, and he's only just getting started.**_

Harley was lying sprawled out across her cot staring at the ceiling with her hands propped under her head. The fluorescent light bulb flickered every now and again, and a fly buzzed around the cell bars. She let out a sigh as she rolled her head over onto her arm and counted the number of stones in the wall next to her bed for the thirtieth time.

_Now I know why the inmates talk to the psychologists here_, she thought to herself, _they're bored out of their minds with nothing else to do_. It was agonizing to just be locked in a cell for hours at a time with nothing to distract her. She tilted her head back to stare at the ceiling again as the door at the end of the hall squeaked open. Furrowing her brow, her eyes unfocused as she listened to the footsteps walking down the hall toward her at a leisurely pace. She swore she could recognize them. Harley closed her eyes as the footsteps stopped outside her cell.

"Those guards are assholes," Dick commented irritably, cocking his head. He could almost see her face where she lay on her bed, but she was half hidden. He smiled, despite the pain that seeing her caused. He wanted to be happy. "How are you feeling? Are you comfy? Do they treat you right here? Because Bruce has an awful lot of pull here, I could get you a book or something."

Harley blinked slowly but didn't say anything.

"I tried to bring you lunch, but those guards wouldn't let me. They took it away. I paid good money for that, too…" he smiled, dropping to the floor and sitting with his legs crossed. "It was for some stupid reason too. Something about you being dangerous." The corner of Harley's mouth turned up in a smile. His heart soared, encouraged at the small response. Dick leaned his head against the bars, watching her. Her hair was splayed across the pillow and one knee was up in the air. She let it fall to the side. Dick stared at her, biting his lip. He frowned, running a hand through his hair.

"Hey Harley."

No answer.

"Hey." Dick watched her ruefully. She could barely see him, the bruises and cuts on his face were healing; he wore a black cargo jacket, jeans, his familiar boots, with a deep blue shirt that had GCPD in white across the front. Dick sighed. "So… _he _wanted me to ask you if you would help us catch the Joker." She parted her lips, but didn't say anything. It was a slow breath like a quiet sigh. Dick looked at her hopefully. "I could keep talking, but I don't think you want to listen to me babbling on." He bit his lip. "I'm not that interesting."

Harley closed her eyes as she waited for him to keep talking.

Dick sighed and situated himself more comfortably on the floor. An inmate screamed in some far off hallway, and they both ignored it. "Bruce and the rest of the family had an intervention for me yesterday," he chuckled. "I told them that I am perfectly fine. I've been sleeping when I can and eating my meals when I have time for them, too. Barbara was all pissed off about me wanting to keep trying with you, of course. She always has been the jealous type…" He muttered as he slid down to the floor, laying with his legs stretched out across the hall, his head propped against the bars, so he wasn't looking at her. He didn't want her to feel uncomfortable in any way, even if that meant he couldn't see her. She turned her head to look at the back of his head, her eyes crinkling slightly as she smiled. Dick crossed his hands on his chest and yawned.

"Well, I've been getting _some _sleep. Probably not as much as an 'active young man of my profession' should, as Alfred put it. He misses you. He won't say it, of course, but I think he liked you." Dick smiled to himself as a doctor walked down the hall, stepped over Dick's outstretched legs distastefully, and then continued on down the hallway. "Everyone who works here is mean. Is that how they cope with being around crazies? Being jerks all the time? And then you weren't a jerk, so you went crazy too? That how it works? Hate them or join them…" Dick pondered, and then glanced over his shoulder at her, a smile on his lips. He looked back at his boots. "I like my crazy girl."

She laughed. It was short and not a big laugh, but she did laugh. When Dick turned to look at her, she was staring at the ceiling with a small smile on her face. Dick grinned at her lovingly and again turned away to face the hallway, closing his eyes relaxedly.

"Of course, I'd like it a lot more if these bars weren't between us." Dick sighed and smiled again. The fluorescent lights buzzed softly above him.

Harley stared at the back of his head. She couldn't understand why he would come to see her after everything she had done, but she couldn't deny this was the happiest she'd been in days.

"It's weird. Even after all this stuff, Bruce seems like he's almost… accepted you. When we talked, he asked me if I was sure I wanted to do this. If it had been a week ago, he would have forbid me from seeing you and locked me in the Manor." Dick chuckled. "I think Damian misses you, too, in his own way. I try to help that kid any way I know how. He's just so… Well he wasn't raised right. Not by Bruce, mind you, I turned out fine. But Damian… well there's a long history with Ra's Al Ghul that is complicated..." Harley listened as Dick chatted away about his dysfunctional family. It was relaxing and normal, not at all like he was telling it to her through a cell door. She closed her eyes and pretended they were somewhere else together. Somewhere _not_ Arkham. Dick sighed, sitting up so his shoulders rested on the bars. "Do you think your family would still want to meet me? I still want to meet them…" Dick trailed off as another doctor walked over his legs. "Maybe I'll go there."

Harley tried to picture Dick and her family in the same room. She shook her head in amusement at the notion. When she started listening to him talk again, he'd begun to think about how he was going to smuggle food in the next time he came.

"Maybe if I just come in uniform, like 'this inmate needs to eat these wings...' or I could pull the 'my rich daddy owns you' card," he pondered. He heard her chuckle softly to herself.

Dick paused.

"Harley, I…" He bit his lip. She didn't have to see his face to know that he was doing it. "I still refer to you as my girlfriend, you know that, right? I hope that's okay…unless you being bonkers was also you dumping me."

"You do?" she asked, shocked into responding. Dick sat bolt upright and turned around, looking at her.

"Of course I do." He smiled gently.

"Why?" She moved one hand out from under her head and draped it over her stomach.

"Because I love you," he answered simply, sliding back down slowly to lean on the bars again.

She didn't respond for a while until she simply asked again, "Why?"

Dick shot a goofy half-smile over his shoulder at her, and her heart leapt. "Well why _not_?"

"For starters, I am Harley Quinn," she muttered. Slowly, she pushed herself up by her elbows into a sitting position on the cot and looked him in the eyes for the first time. There was a cut above her right eyebrow that had purplish bruising forming to her temple and her eyelid. Her lip was split, and Dick could see the bandaging under the collar of her Arkham jump suit. He bit his lip again, sitting up on his knees outside of her cell. His clear blue eyes were so familiar and warm.

"Oh, Harley…" he sighed, examining the bruises. "I'm sorry."

"You didn't push me out the window," she scolded him sternly, sounding like her old self. Dick smiled a little, running a hand through his hair.

"But I wasn't there to catch you."

"Well I did just kidnap your dad, so we can call it even." She smiled.

Dick snorted and grinned. "I guess we are." He watched her happily. "God I've missed you." She adjusted her shoulder on the wall with a grimace.

"You shouldn't," she told him.

"I do," he shrugged, grinning. "Come here." She smiled wanly.

"I don't think that's a good idea."

"Why?" Dick smiled at her, pressing his face against the bars.

"First off," she was unable to not smile at him, "you look as beat up as I feel." Her smile turned into a pucker, and she shook her head back and forth slightly. "And you should really keep your distance from me."

"Well that just makes me want you over here more," he frowned, and then looked at her seriously. "And nothing you say will convince me to stay away from you, Harley," he pointed out.

"Dick," she whispered, closing her eyes. "I don't want you to get hurt." He smiled a little.

"I don't think you'll hurt me," he said, leaning against the bars.

"Past experience would beg to differ." She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

"I don't care about the past. You asked me why I loved you? One of the reasons was because you didn't care either. You had a bad childhood, and you _made _something out of it. You fought your way through college and to where you are. I fell in love with your passion for the present." Dick pressed, his hands wrapping around the bars.

"I think you're missing the minor detail of me becoming a criminal and landing myself in Arkham."

"That doesn't matter. You think I've never dealt with that criminal stuff before? I deal with it every day. When I look at Bruce, Jason, Damian; even Tim. I deal with that when I look in the mirror. Hell, Jason busted himself out of prison and none of us care. I've overlooked it, Harley." She tucked her knees into her chest.

"Well I can't overlook it. I was a psychologist for crying out loud. I worked with the people here, and now look at me." She put her forehead down on her knees. "What was I thinking?" she muttered.

Dick looked down. "Could you overlook it for a few minutes and come over here?" he glanced up at her hopefully, his blue eyes pitifully wide. Harley wanted nothing more than to run to him, but instead she kept her head bent and said nothing. "Don't make me come over there." She snorted with laughter before tipping her head up and resting her chin on her knees. Dick narrowed his eyes."You know I can pick these locks, right?"

"You know they have alarms, right?" she taunted.

"If I pick the locks, the alarms would go off immediately. It would take about twenty seconds for the guards to get down here. That's a kiss long enough to be worth it," Dick pointed out. Harley blushed. "Or I could always hack security from my phone, but that might be a bit more dangerous than the first option. So come here." Harley opened her mouth to reply when someone cleared their throat behind Dick. Dick turned around and saw a red headed doctor staring at him.

"Oh, hello Dr. Isley," Harley said slightly confused.

"I hate to interrupt," she said, glancing at Dick. "But I'm afraid I need to talk to my patient."

Dick narrowed his eyes irritably, still sitting cross-legged on the floor and pouting up at her. "Can't you wait, like, _twenty _seconds? Tops?"

"I'm afraid not. This is important."

Harley frowned a little at Dr. Isley before glancing at Dick. "I think I should probably listen to her. She is my doctor."

Dick groaned in exasperation and stood, dusting his knees off. He glanced at Harley pointedly and smiled. "I love you. I'll see you tomorrow." He turned and looked down at Dr. Isley. He was quite a bit taller than her, and he narrowed his eyes for a moment before walking back down the hall.

"Stupid doctor…" Dick muttered. Her red hair had smelled like flowers. He shoved his hands into his pockets as he walked out into the main lobby, his footfalls echoing in the high ceiling. Suddenly remembering the first time he came through this atrium, Dick stopped and looked around, smiling a little. The last time he'd been here and walked out this giddy was when he'd first met Harley.

_His footsteps echoed in the high, clean atrium as he walked to the reception counter. An aged woman with gray hair and beady eyes behind gold frame glasses looked up at him._

Dick turned around and looked. The woman was still at the counter, chomping away at a piece of chewing gum. He laughed to himself. Commercials played loudly on a TV mounted on the wall of a waiting area to his right.

"_Hi." He held up his badge. "Officer Grayson. I need to see a psychologist-"_

"_I don't think so sweetie-pie," she giggled._

"_-about the Joker, ma'am." Dick finished, trying to suppress the urge to roll his eyes and huff irritably._

Dick laughed a little harder, sighing. His smile was suddenly wiped clean from his face as if Bruce had slapped him again. _The Joker. _

"Shit!" he cursed. He'd been tasked with asking Harley about the damn clown, and he'd forgotten. Dick couldn't believe he'd forgotten.

"Did you _miss me,_ Gotham?" a chilling voice suddenly said, and Dick froze. The Joker laughed, a quiet chuckle that escalated into a shrill cackle. Dick turned to see that the Joker had appeared on the television in the waiting area. His blood ran cold in his veins. "I'll admit, I _did _disappear for a while. Right about now your policemen are trying to track me down via this feed, trying to shut it down, but see; I'm not finished yet." He clicked his tongue, shaking his head. The Joker sat at a table, his gloved hands crossed on it's surface. His voice echoed eerily on the video, and unlike the Riddler feed; the picture was clear and clean. His gleaming face was half bathed in shadow, his eyes hidden under high arched brows. The grin on his face darkened his already macabre features. "So do I have your attention?"

Dick's phone rang and he answered it, without looking at the caller ID. "Yes, I'm watching it, Bruce," he breathed, his eyes fixed on the face on the screen.

"Yes? Good." The Joker chuckled, uncrossing his hands and standing. The camera followed his movements, the person behind it dictating it's motion. "You see, my er- _knowledgeable _friend the _Riddler,_ went about this all wrong, and I'd like to apologize for that. Of course, he got himself locked up because of it." Joker's eyes unfocused, and he suddenly laughed loudly. "These things ought to be well shot. _Acted_, as if they were little films. But of course, this is real life! Real emotion, real _fear._" He growled. As he'd walked, the camera had followed, and it now turned away from him to look up at a man on a stage, tied to a chair. He looked unharmed, but he trembled uncontrollably, his eyes distant. A grin was painted across his lips in lipstick; a harlequin hood pulled over his head. "Harley dear, over _here_-" Joker snapped, and the camera turned back to him as he walked up the stairs onto the stage, his purple coattails trailing behind him elegantly and ominously as he crossed to the restrained man. Joker grinned broadly, glaring down at the camera. The torn scarlet curtains of the long unused stage provided a backdrop for his wicked grin, and the color made his purple suit stand out. "Jake here has just finished giving me every little secret he knows… And _I _didn't have to lay a finger on him!" Joker clapped. The camera zoomed in on the man, looking terrified as he shuddered in his chair.

"Jake works for one of those pesky cartels that peddle their second-rate garbage onto the streets. He's very kindly given me the names, schedules, and even _hobbies _of the people he works with, and it's been very helpful." As the Joker slammed his hands down loudly on the back of the chair, he laughed wickedly, the stage lights bathing his visage in shadow. "I'm coming for you." he said evenly, and then burst into laughter again. "Your filthy little right hand has just slit your own throat, Christopher Renner, and tomorrow, _I _come for _you._ And since he just poured his heart out to me, and you were going to do it anyway; I'll pour his heart out _for _you." Joker laughed excitedly, a dagger flashing out of nowhere and cutting swiftly into the man's chest.

Someone in the lobby screamed. The man's face didn't change. His eyes stared straight forward vacantly as blood poured down his shirt in a tidal wave of red; the hostage's face twisted in a pain that he knew should be there, though he appeared to feel none as the light left his eyes, and he slumped in his chair, lifeless. The Joker stepped out of the way, careful to avoid getting any blood on his spotless Italian leather shoes. He cleaned the dagger with one of the hat tips of the harlequin hood that was still on the man's head and then used it to pull the head up to look into the camera.

"I hope you're watching, Dr. Quinzel," he hissed, grinning with parted teeth as he laughed. Dropping the dagger, Joker eased down to sit on the edge of the stage. "Put that on the tripod and come over here, darling," he purred, and there was a moment of jostling as the camera was put stationary. Harley Quinn- _another_ Harley Quinn- skipped out to the Joker and leaned against his leg where it hung off of the stage. Dick swallowed; this new replacement looked almost exactly like the original. "You see, Gotham, this was a threat, but only to one man. To _you_, dear city of mine, it was a reminder that you are indeed _mine._ I've spoken for five whole minutes now. No one is in control of the television but myself. I murdered a man for you, and trust me, I'll disappear again and they will never find me. Thank you for your time!" He grinned, and then laughed gruesomely until the feed cut off. Dick finally let go of the breath that he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

"Bruce. You still there? What the hell was _that_!?"

"I don't know. We couldn't track the signal."

"I think that was his point," Dick choked.

"He streamed across all of the news channels," Damian added from the other line.

"What the hell do we do now, Bruce?" Dick asked. He still couldn't get the image of the man in the harlequin hood out of his head. _He knows she's alive, _he thought. _And he'll come for her._

"Now we stop him."


	11. I'm Always Paying Attention

_**Once again, a threat has been issued.**_

_**The Joker has blatantly named his target on live television, and Batman has nothing. The Joker is playing a twisted game of tapped lines and hacked feeds- and all of it is untraceable. Meanwhile, Batman is running out of time.**_

_**A distraction in the form of a letter falls into his hands. The head at Arkham is getting too close to Poison Ivy; she can't risk blowing her cover. The Joker sends out an ally to deal with the meddlesome doctor, and Harley tips off the Batman in her own attempt to carry out her plans.**_

Bruce flicked off the computer screen where he had been looking at police reports and a map of the city. He rubbed his eyes. He'd been combing over intel on the Joker for eight hours now.

"We have nothing on him. He told us exactly where he's going to be, and we have nothing," he muttered. Bruce grabbed his comm. "Red Robin, report."

"Ditto, Batman. I've got nothing."

"Keep on it," Bruce instructed. "Are the police there yet?"

"Yeah. There's the looming feeling of an all-out war here. The police won't leave, insisting its for safety, and it looks like it could crumble into an bloodbath." Bruce could hear shouting in the background. "I'm on the rooftop across the road, and I can still hear every word they're screaming clear as day. And no sign of Nightwing."

"He was at Arkham when the transmission went out. I can only assume he stayed there." Bruce said it evenly, trying not to be frustrated.

"Well he may actually be able to get some good intel there," Red Robin tried to be helpful.

"Let's hope so. I didn't expect the Joker to move forward this quickly, _and_ with a new Harley Quinn."

Red Robin frowned, scanning the area. "Yeah," he agreed distractedly. "That was arguably one of the most disturbing things I've ever seen…"

"Why would the Joker show us that man's murder?" Bruce mused. "The cops were bound to swarm Christopher Renner's headquarters, and if he wants to face me, they will only get in the way."

"Agreed." Red Robin muttered.

"Keep a sharp eye out," Batman instructed.

"Can do, Mr. Batman sir." Red Robin quipped cheerily and the comm fell silent. Bruce set it down on the table next to his cowl. "You're being awfully quiet," he told Damian. He didn't respond, and when Bruce looked over his shoulder, Damian hung upside down from his knees from a pull-up bar, his earbuds in his ears as he played on his iPhone. One hand hung loosely past his head, the blade of his katana swinging lazily in the air.

Bruce picked up one of Damian's Robin gloves off the table and tossed it at him. The boy quickly caught it on the end of his katana, so skillfully that the sharp blade didn't even pierce the thick fabric.

"Don't do that, Father," Damian warned, not looking away from his phone. "What do you need?"

"Just seeing if you were paying attention." Bruce smirked.

"I'm _always _paying attention," Damian mumbled, though he seemed distracted.

"Really?" Bruce asked, raising an eyebrow. He quickly snapped his wrist to throw the Batarang concealed in the palm of his hand. It caught Damian's dangling cape, pulling it backward, spinning him backward until his legs unhooked from the bar and he fell to the ground, landing on his stomach with an audible _oof_. His cape fluttered down over his head planted on the rock. "Are you sure? Because that was way too easy."

Damian flipped his cape up and glared at Bruce angrily, and then caught sight of the tear in it. He sat up quickly and poked his finger through the hole. "You _tore _it!" he cried, holding the cape up and shaking it at Bruce. "Are you happy with yourself?! Look what you've done!" Damian's cat rubbed against Bruce's boot, purring loudly.

"If I did, then you have seriously fallen behind in your training," Bruce said with a smile. Damian stood up, fuming, his cape clenched in his fist.

"How does that make me remiss in my training!?" he demanded.

"You should have already started your counterattack. In that position," he said, stepping closer to Damian, "I have the advantage."

"You never have the advantage." Damian spat, eyeing Bruce irritably. "If you want me to _attack you_, just keep destroying my things."

"I wouldn't destroy your things if your reflexes were better," he retorted.

"Don't patronize me," Damian sneered, glaring up at him.

"I'm your father; it's in the job description."

Damian's eyes narrowed, and he picked up his phone where it had fallen on the floor. He'd been texting someone. Bruce crossed his arms.

"Another part of my job is to invade your privacy. Who are you texting?"

"No one," Damian snapped, pushing past Bruce and walking away.

"Well tell No One I say hello." Bruce trailed after him.

"I'm sure Grayson will be thrilled that you're so cordial," Damian muttered, doing a one-handed cartwheel and then sitting down cross legged in Bruce's chair. His knees just touched the wide armrests on either side of him.

"Then tell Dick I say 'what's up'."

Damian looked up at him, an eyebrow raised. A smile almost graced his lips for a moment, and then it was gone. "'What's up'? You cannot be serious."

"Is that not cool anymore?" Bruce asked deadpan. "What about 'fo shizzle'?" He made a ridiculous hand gesture. Damian stared at him evenly, the corner of his mouth twitching.

"Just… _no._"

"You know I was _hip_ once," Bruce told him.

"No you weren't. You were just like _me_ once. _Intelligent_ and resourceful. You were never 'hip'." Damian watched him, spinning slightly in the chair.

"Tell that to your mother," Bruce said with a wink. Damian stared at him, eyes wide. He was shocked into not responding; his lips parted for a moment, and then he closed them.

"I'm just going to imagine that I didn't hear that, for the sake of my now bleeding ears." Damian muttered, looking down at the phone. "Richard says hello."

"That fast huh?" Bruce joked, leaning against the table.

"Yes. The wonders of texting. So much more efficient that, let's say, a glowing signal in the sky."

"It's not like I'm the one who made it," Bruce objected.

Damian ignored him, slipping gracefully out of his chair and putting his earbuds back in as he tucked the phone into a pocket on his belt. Bruce smiled to himself, turning as he heard the elevator opening. Alfred stepped into the Batcave.

"Master Wayne, Master Damian, I'm disappointed that neither of you have taken it upon yourselves to eat your dinner," Alfred commented, passing the full plates.

"I'm not hungry, Pennyworth," Damian replied, throwing punches in the air.

"That is no excuse for a boy your age."

"What is it Alfred?" Bruce asked. Alfred frowned and turned his nose up at Damian before turning toward Bruce.

"A lady stopped by with a message for you, Master Wayne." Alfred extended out a white envelope toward Bruce. He took it and read the front.

**Urgent. Please open immediately.**

Bruce frowned at it, tearing open the back.

"Is it Selina?" Damian yawned, punching in time with his music and dancing a bit when he thought Bruce wasn't looking. "As you know, Pennyworth, Father is _very _hip."

"I'm sure," Alfred said. Bruce pulled out a deep red stationery and flipped it over to the writing in black ink.

**Batman,**

**You are needed at 156 Grant Street as soon as possible. I suggest a vantage point from the hotel.**

**- H.Q.**

"And our message from Harley Quinn says what, Father?" Damian materialized at his side.

"That we have somewhere we need to be," Bruce responded, handing the note to Damian and reaching for his cowl. Damian glanced over it and quickly put his mask on, tugging his gloves over his small hands. Sheathing the katana on his back, he tugged his earbuds out and pressed his comm into his ear.

"No swords, Damian." Batman said seriously, rolling his shoulders. His cape fell smoothly in front of his chest.

"I won't hurt anyone, Father! Please?" Damian said, looking at Bruce hopefully. It was the first time that the boy had expressed an emotion besides irritation and anger all night.

"Fine, just tonight," Batman nodded.

"Shall I inform Master Grayson about your whereabouts?" Alfred asked, picking up the letter and tucking it back into the envelope.

"If he calls, yes. If he doesn't; let him get some rest."

"As you wish, Sir." Batman and Robin ran over to the Batmobile.

Damian slid into the passenger seat, buckling the belts over his chest. Batman did the same, starting the engine. As the Batmobile tore out of the Batcave, Alfred looked down at the cat rubbing against his leg.

"Would _you _like some dinner, little sir?" he asked. The cat purred and Alfred looked up again, watching the lights of the Batmobile fade down the tunnel.

"Why are we letting her summon us like dogs? And are we even sure which Harley Quinn this _is_? The original is locked in Arkham, after all," Damian pointed out.

"It doesn't matter where the mission comes from," Batman told him. "Besides, no matter which one wrote it, we go either way."

"What if it's a trap?"

"Then we don't get caught," he said simply.

"It's a trap," Damian decided. Batman thought about it for a second.

"We can split up when we get there," he reasoned.

Robin looked at him for a long moment and then shrugged. "You're the leader, though I do not think it is wise to split up right after I clearly said it was a trap. What if we're separated and something happens to you? I won't be there to help."

Batman glanced at his son, his small, lithe body tucked into the seat and almost completely covered by the heavy buckle on his chest. Part of the Robin _R _peeked out from under it. His lips were pursed seriously as he looked out the high window, only his eyes able to see out; his small hands were folded in his lap. It was easy to forget that he was only ten years old.

"I think I can take care of myself."

"You're old and slow," Damian mocked. "I worry for you." Batman smiled.

"We'll see who has to worry about whom."

"There's no need to worry about me. I _can _take care of myself." Robin sniffed, crossing his arms. Batman pulled the Batmobile to a stop in an alleyway.

"I guess we're about to find out." He opened the roof. "I'll go to the hotel roof; you be on lookout from a different vantage point."

Robin unbuckled his belt and slipped out the door, disappearing into the dark of the alleyway. "Test. Comms working." Robin said into the comm in Batman's ear.

"I hear you," Batman said, firing a grappling hook toward the roof. Robin slipped around to the front of the building and tried the door handle; when it was open, he slipped into the darkened lobby. He snuck past the sleeping attendant and down a hallway.

"Where exactly are we going?"

"I'll scope out the roof," Batman said as he reached the end of his rope and swung up over the railing and onto the roof. "You check the visitor's log for anything suspicious."

Robin doubled back. "On it." He slipped silently behind the desk, his hood up around his head. Stepping behind the man sleeping at the counter, Robin smirked and then blew a sleeping powder in his face to ensure that he remained unconscious. He distastefully kicked him out of his chair, and Batman heard the thump on the floor followed by a short groan. "Okay, I'm at the computer. Hacking everything now… and done."

"Anything?" Batman asked. He flicked on his night vision and glanced around the rooftop.

"None of Harley Quinn _or _the Joker's known aliases pop up… but your friend Dr. Charles Asbury is here. Doesn't he live in the city? Why does he have a hotel room?" Robin clicked his tongue. "Suspicious, Dr. Asbury…"

"The head of Arkham's medical staff?" Batman asked. he couldn't see anything on this roof. There were a few buildings around the hotel that were taller and would have made better vantage points if anything was going to happen. _Why was the hotel roof so important?_ In fact, it almost seemed the low point with the taller buildings focused down on it. Batman felt exposed.

"The very same," Robin narrowed his eyes at the screen. "It says he was moved to a room on the third floor. Room 302. Neither he nor the hotel have any reason for the request of transfer. It's just in the system. What's the plan? Check it out?"

Batman frowned. "It's the only lead we have. Go ahead. I'll finish up things up here."

"Yes sir." Robin slipped out from behind the desk, skipped the elevator, and took the stairs to the third floor. He crept down the hallway toward the door. "Coming up on the room. Do I engage?" When Batman hesitated, Damian knelt by the door, examining the lock.

"Is there any reason to?" Batman asked.

"It's no coincidence that he was moved on the one night he was here, to a corner room." Robin hissed. "It sounds like a setup to me."

"Fine," Batman snapped. "Check it out."

Robin stared at the lock irritably, and then stepped back. He got a running start and kicked out, the force throwing the door open. Batman heard a scream over the comm as Robin flipped into the room, scanning the surroundings. He checked the closet and the bathroom and then touched his ear. "Clear here."

"What the _hell_?!" Dr. Asbury yelled, stepping out from the bedroom suite. He was tying the belt of a robe around his waist. "What are you doing here?" he demanded, spotting Robin.

Robin smirked, his words layered with sarcasm. "Don't worry, sir, I'm here for your protection. Or your interrogation, depending on which side of this you'll end up on." He straightened up from his fighting stance where he stood by the windows.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Asbury snapped.

"Charlie," a woman's voice called out from the bedroom. "Who's there?"

"It's nothing. I'll be back in a second." Asbury glared at Robin. He scowled smugly.

"Just be good and cooperate and Mrs. 'Charlie' Asbury won't have to find out." Robin pressed his comm. "Batman, we have anything?" He glanced at Asbury. "Is there any reason Harley Quinn would direct us to you tonight sir, other than your friend in the bedroom there?"

"Harley Quinn?" Asbury asked confused. "She isn't even my patient."

"Of course not." Robin rolled his eyes. "Batman, she isn't here, and this moron has nothing." He snapped, his eyes combing over the room. He glanced at the high glass windows of the suite, and took a step back. "Hold on, Batman." Robin took his hand away from his ear and whirled on Asbury.

"Why were you moved to this room? You've only paid for one night, so what did you need a suite like this for?" he demanded.

"I don't know. They just gave me this room."

"For no reason at all? Nothing wrong with your plumbing, nothing odd?"

"No." Asbury narrowed his eyes.

Robin tapped his comm again. "Batman we have to get him out of here, he's being targeted." He snapped a finger at Asbury. "You. Get your whore and let's go."

"What? No, I refuse to be pushed around. Tell me what's happening."

"Robin, how do you know?" Batman asked patiently.

"This is a perfect vantage point for an assassin. I would know because it's what I would have picked. Now let's _go_." He answered both of them and started toward Asbury, when a laser target appeared on his chest. Robin tackled him just as the gunshot tore through the glass and they hit the floor. The woman screamed in the bedroom. "In there, now!" Robin commanded, shoving Asbury toward the door as another bullet tore his cape. Robin stumbled, chasing Asbury into the bedroom. The woman screamed again. Touching his ear, Robin realized that his comm had fallen out when he'd tackled the doctor.

"Charlie what's happening!?" the woman screamed, and Robin shoved Asbury into the bathroom just off of the bedroom.

"Get in there and close the door!" he shouted at the woman, and she leapt up, dragging the bedsheets with her. Robin slammed the door behind them and crept back to the bedroom door. He pulled his hood up over his head, and then glanced into the living room. He could see his communicator on the floor where it had fallen, but the sniper was no doubt still on the rooftop. Possibly trying to get a better shot to the bedroom. Taking a deep breath in, Robin dove out into the living room, scooping up his comm as he somersaulted across the floor and behind the couch as he exhaled. He steadied himself and then pressed the comm into his ear. "Batman?"

"Robin! Are you alright?" Batman demanded.

"I'm fine. You know how you told me it was too dangerous to utilize my grappling gun one handed, with my cast on?"

"Yes," Batman said, sounding out of breath as he ran along the rooftop. He was on the wrong side of the hotel. If he had been on the other side, he would have had the perfect view of the sniper. The hotel rooftop hadn't been to get a view of a target, it had been to find the vantage point of the attacker.

"I apologize in advance for disobeying, Father," Robin smirked, and then shot out from behind the couch. Another gunshot glanced past his ear and he dodged, leaping out the window and firing the grappling gun. Holding it one-handed was out of the question, the force of it catching him would have ripped it out of his hand, so he gripped the handle with both hands and cried out when it jerked painfully on his broken arm as it broke his fall. The hook bit deep into the concrete of the building that the shooter was firing from. Flicking the trigger again, the cording retracted quickly. Robin flipped up onto the roof, drawing his katana and readying for a fight. The shooter was halfway across the rooftop. "I'll never catch him!" Robin snapped, and then sheathed his katana. A grin flicked across his lips as he slowly aimed the grappling gun, and when he fired the hook, it hit it's target. The sniper screamed as the claw bit deep into his shoulder. Robin laughed and flicked the trigger again. The cording retracted, yanking the sniper off of his feet and dragging him backwards along the rooftop until Robin released the claw with the man at his feet. He cocked his head. "Hello," Robin pressed a boot onto the wounded shoulder, "Deadshot."

"Oh look, half sized Batman," Deadshot sneered. Robin's face darkened.

"Who hired you?" he asked, digging his heel into the deep gashes on Deadshot's shoulder.

"Sorry Kid," Deadshot hissed through the pain. "I'm not saying."

"Oh, you will." Robin smirked, drawing his katana. _Sorry again, Father..._ "I don't have the patience that my mentor does. Who do you work for tonight?" he asked again, the blade glinting in the moonlight. When Deadshot didn't say a word, Robin took his boot away from the wounded shoulder, and then pressed the tip of the katana into one of the holes that the grappling hook had dug. Deadshot cried out, and Robin yawned. "I'm waiting upon an _answer."_

"How long until Batman comes and puts you back on your leash?" Deadshot asked.

Robin's eyes flashed furiously. "Let's find out," he snapped, raising the katana and driving it through Deadshot's shoulder, where it embedded itself an inch deep in the rooftop. The sniper screamed. Robin walked onto his chest and knelt down. "Answer me."

"Robin!" Batman called, grappling up to the rooftop. Robin ignored him, tearing Deadshot's mask off.

"Answer me!" he roared, turning the katana in his shoulder. Deadshot screamed louder, the blade tearing his flesh and threatening to snap his collarbone.

"Enough!" Batman pulled Robin off of the sniper.

"Good luck shooting with the nerves in your arm severed," Robin spat angrily as Batman dragged him a few feet away. "Get your hands _off _me!" he shouted, shoving Batman.

"Did he get you? Did he graze you at all?" Batman demanded.

"He tore my damn cape," Robin snapped. "I'm fine."

"Good." Batman turned to Deadshot and hauled him to his feet. "Now tell me what you know, or I will let Robin interrogate you again." Deadshot looked over Batman's shoulder, where Robin stood, glaring at him and lazily twirling his katana in his hand. "Why was Dr. Asbury your target?"

"I don't know!" He panted. "Something about him digging into information he shouldn't have. I didn't ask questions," Deadshot insisted weakly, blood running down his jacket from his shoulder.

"Who hired you?"

Deadshot paused.

"Answer me!" Batman shouted.

"The J-Joker! He didn't want it to be traced back to him!"


	12. We Had A Common Enterprise

_**The heat is on.**_

_**Batman and Robin stopped the hit that the Joker issued on the head doctor at Arkham, but it left lingering questions. Why was he targeted, and why did Harley Quinn tip them off? More questions than answers.**_

_**The team must split up to fight the growing threat of the Joker- he's out in the open and he's made the first move. But can they work divided? And can Batman handle his team spread that thin?**_

"Okay, I'm here. What happened? It's nearly dawn!" Nightwing said, walking toward the others where they stood in the Batcave. Bruce's cowl was resting on the computer banks beside him, Damian sat in the chair, his knees barely touching the arms of it with his legs crossed under him, Batgirl stood beside Batman with her mask in her hands, and Red Robin had pulled his cowl down from his head. Dick took his mask off, catching sight of the blood splattered on Damian's cape and gloves. "What happened?" Dick repeated, looking Bruce in the eyes.

"Robin got a little carried away in an interrogation," Bruce replied. Damian scoffed and Bruce shot him a warning look.

"Okay, who was he interrogating?" Dick asked, putting his gloved hands on his hips.

"Deadshot." Bruce nodded slowly, and then looked around. "Where the hell is Jason? I told him to-"

"Don't get your bat-panties in a bunch, Bruce, Al was giving me something to eat," Jason called with a full mouth from across the Batcave, walking towards them. Alfred trailed behind him, looking overtaxed as he carried a tray of neatly made sandwiches.

"Good of you to join us." Bruce said, running a hand through his dark hair; smoothing it back. Alfred offered the sandwich tray and Dick and Tim gratefully took two. Barbara graciously took a couple, and Tim scarfed his first down like he hadn't eaten in a day and a half. Alfred stepped to Damian and bent down, proffering a sandwich. Damian crossed his arms.

"Damian," Bruce said sternly. Damian looked at him and then snatched two sandwiches, nodding a thanks at Alfred, who smiled a little, looking hopefully at Bruce. He held up a hand to decline.

"Bruce," Jason snapped seriously, mimicking him. Bruce rolled his eyes and took a sandwich. Alfred waited, the tray hovering in the air, until he took a second. When he walked past Jason and Dick, Jason snatched the last sandwich and Dick put a hand on his shoulder.

"Go get some sleep, Al. Thank you." He said quietly. Alfred nodded gratefully and then left the Batcave.

"Okay. Now that we're all here-" Bruce paused to swallow his bite of sandwich- "we need to get to work. Splitting up is the only way we can do this. To get the rest of you up to speed," he looked Dick, Tim, and Jason all in the eyes one by one, "Tonight Robin and I received a tip of an attempted assassination of Dr. Charles Asbury, the head of Arkham's medical staff. The tip came from Harley Quinn."

"What?!" Dick straightened up from where he'd been leaning against the computer banks beside Damian's chair. Bruce nodded, handing him the envelope.

"Is that Harleen's handwriting?" he asked. Dick turned the envelope over in his hands, his mind flashing back to the day he first met her and the scrawl on her notepad.

"This is her," Dick confirmed, handing the envelope back to Batman. "She tipped you off?"

"Yes. Damian stopped the assassination, and we interrogated Deadshot. He told us that the Joker was the one who'd hired him."

"Why the hell would the Joker want to kill the head of Arkham's medical staff?" Barbara asked, crossing her arms.

"That's exactly what we need to find out," Bruce said, finishing his sandwich. He pointed at Barbara. "I want you and Jason to watch the Joker. Do _not,_ under any circumstances, engage or expose yourself. I want to be perfectly clear on that."

"Yes sir." Barbara nodded.

"Nice. Batgirl and I get some alone time," Jason smirked. Barbara scowled at him and Dick rolled his eyes.

"Come on, Jay, don't be an ass." He raised his eyebrows at him seriously.

"Father is only putting her with you because he knows that she can control you, Todd," Damian sneered. Jason narrowed his eyes at him.

"Focus," Batman interrupted. "Jason and Barbara will watch the Joker and report back regularly to the Batcave. Don't let him out of your sight, and see what you can find about the new Harley Quinn. Tell us the second that he's on the move. The Joker threatened to attack Christopher Renner _today._ We need to know the second that he starts something."

Barbara and Jason nodded. Batman turned to Tim. "You, Damian, and I will be surveilling Renner's hideout. He successfully drove the police off of his property, but they've still set up a perimeter. I don't think that will be enough. Alfred from the Batcave will inform us the moment that Barbara and Jason tell him that the Joker's on the move, and we'll be ready."

Tim and Damian both mumbled an agreement. Dick's eyebrows knit, confused.

"Where am I going?"

"You-" Batman shook his head- "I can't believe I'm saying this- _You _will be at Arkham, getting information from the former Harley Quinn. When I call you, I'll want you to report to Renner's place with the rest of us, but until then, you're going to be civilian."

Dick nodded solemnly, hiding his happiness at seeing Harley again. "Yes, Sir."

"I brought you some brunch," Dick dropped down to sit cross legged on the floor in front of Harley's cell, pulling a brown take-out bag out of his coat. He grinned, reaching into the bag and pulling out two boxes of food and a stack of napkins; the scent of barbecue sauce and chicken filled her cell. Harley had been getting nothing but the Arkham Asylum cafeteria food, that, while _good_, was more like school food than real food. She sat up from her bed, staring at him. "The best wings in all of Gotham," he grinned, holding a box out to her. "And Joe put all your favorites in there for you."

When Harley came to the bars, Dick pulled the food back, out of her reach.

"Give me a kiss first." His eyes gleamed as he grinned that stupid, gorgeous grin of his. Harley smiled, put both hands on either side of his face, pulled him close, and kissed him on the forehead.

"I believe I satisfied your demands," she said with a wicked smile. Dick groaned in exasperation.

"_Fine_. You win." He smiled, handing her the box of wings and some napkins. She sat down on the other side of the bars, facing him. She'd missed being this close to him, and as if he could sense her thoughts, Dick scooted closer to the bars. Harley pulled out a wing and took a bite, and actually whimpered in delight at the taste. Dick grinned. "You're welcome."

"I've missed these," she said between bites. She paused to grab a napkin and smile sheepishly up at him. He smiled at her lovingly, brushing his dark hair away from his healing face.

"I figured you would. Unfortunately, I'm here on business, too," he sighed, wiping his mouth. His voice dropped to a whisper. "Why did you help Batman and Robin last night?"

"I didn't want Dr. Asbury to die. He had nothing to do with what's going on." She shrugged.

"What _is _going on, Harley?" Dick asked, leaning closer. "You helped him. Help me now. What do you know- _really_- about the Joker's plan?"

"I only know parts. Everything he's doing is part of something bigger. I can tell you that the drug lords are merely a distraction. A ploy to distract Batman." She laid her wing aside.

Dick let out a slow breath. "Son of a bitch." He shook his head and bit his lip. "Okay, that's good. That's really good. Thank you. Anything else?" She shook her head slightly, looking down at her napkin. Dick nodded. "Thank you for telling me that, Harley. They're treating you okay here, right?" He smiled, picking up his soda and taking a drink. He put her drink through the bars for her.

"I'm not going to break, Dick." She smiled at him a little. "I've been through worse."

"I know, though that doesn't exactly reassure me; I just want to make sure they aren't torturing you like some Sci Fi movie." He joked, picking up another wing. Harley snorted.

"So everyone does think the stereotypes of asylums are true."

"Right down to the hot doctors," Dick agreed, winking at her. Harley blushed, reaching for her drink.

"So how's the family?" she asked, changing the subject.

"Still as messed up as ever," Dick sighed, "but I think things are getting better. Bruce and Damian spent some quality time together, Tim's back in town… Jay is still on the cop's manhunt list, but he's pretty chipper for a wanted felon." Dick laughed, wiping his mouth with another napkin.

"And you?" she asked, grabbing another wing.

"I'm fine," he assured her. "I go to work, day and night, and I'm having lunch with my best girl. I couldn't be better. Well… maybe I could. There are things I miss, like getting to hold you." Dick grinned. "Among other things." Harley rolled her eyes.

"How about you focus on missing things like getting to see each other whenever we wanted outside of visiting hours instead of _that_."

"Okay, okay," Dick laughed, smiling broadly. He finished his soda and then ran a hand through his hair.

"I'm surprised you got in to see me," she told him. "The cops have been hounding me ever since the Joker's broadcast."

"Your angry red-headed doctor has been holding them at bay. I think she let me through, too." Dick finished his wings and wiped his hands with a napkin. Putting all of his trash in the bag, he set it aside.

"Well, they do liven things up around here. You know, break up the boredom." She smiled, setting aside her last wing.

"I'm sorry you're bored. Next time I come I'll bring some puzzles," he laughed. Harley giggled.

"If only boredom were the most of my problems right now."

"What's worse? Other than being locked in here with doctors experimenting on you?" Dick smiled, leaning his head against the bars as he watched her.

"I'm not being experimented on!" she objected, smiling. Dick shrugged. "And I don't know, should we start a list for all of the things going wrong in my life currently?"

"Tell me what I can do to help." Dick looked at her through the bars, his blue eyes serious and attentive.

"Continue being the one thing going right," she whispered. Dick smiled at her gently and reached through the bars, pulling her face close to his and kissing her softly. Harley leaned into the kiss, inhaling his scent, and placing a hand on one of the bars to support herself. His lips fell away from hers and he smiled, resting his forehead against hers. Dick stroked her cheek gently.

"I promise I will." Harley closed her eyes and put her hand over his.

"I don't deserve you," she mumbled. Dick smiled and nuzzled her nose with his.

"You're kind of stuck with me," he whispered, and kissed her again. His other hand slid into her hair and pulled her close, and Harley squeezed his hand against her cheek, wishing that they didn't have to be so far apart. She reached her hand through the bars and grabbed onto his shirt, trying to get closer to him. Dick smiled and kissed her harder, having to remind himself to breathe as his hand tightened in her hair. He didn't want anything more than to wrap his arms around her, but he savored the moment, holding her as close as he could through the bars as he kissed her passionately.

Harley reluctantly broke away, keeping her face near his and not letting his shirt go. She stared into his blue eyes. "Stuck with you isn't how I would describe it," she told him gently. Dick stroked her cheek and smiled.

"How would you describe it?"

"I'm lucky my crazy has brought you closer to me instead of driven you away." She laughed a little to herself. "Although maybe that should worry me."

Dick smiled and laughed, and then smoothed her hair away from her face. "Last time I was here, you asked me why I loved you," he whispered, holding her hand.

"And why is that?" she asked, looking down at their hands.

"I love you because from the moment you met me, you didn't put up with any of my bullshit. You looked past my sarcasm, and you saw that I needed someone like you. I do, I need _you._" He tilted her head up to look at him. "I fell in love with the girl who faced impossible odds and still rose above them to get what she wanted. Then _and _now, Harley. You fought your way to college, and even now, though you know it's dangerous, you're helping Batman. I love you because you're resilient and independent and caring and beautiful. You care for me, you care for others; I love that about you. I love the way you clung to me in your sleep. I love the way your eyebrows knit when you're worried-" he poked her between the eyebrows and smiled- "I love the way you laugh. I love your accent. Your _real _accent," Dick stroked her cheek. "I love your rosy perfume, and I love your glasses. I love how nervous you got when you were going to meet my family, and I love how you stand up to Bruce." He laughed. "I love _you_, Harley."

Harley's eyes started to water, and she blinked back tears. "I love you, too," she whispered. Dick pulled her close and kissed her forehead.

"I'm sorry," a voice said from the hallway. Dr. Isley stood, watching them. She'd heard everything, and her eyes met Harley's as she smiled gently. "But I can't hold the reporters back much longer. Mr. Grayson… you come back any time you like."

Dick smiled at Harley and stood up, taking the garbage with him. "I'll see you soon, Harley." He glanced at his phone as he walked down the hallway when it buzzed with a call from Bruce.

"No sign of the Joker yet," Red Robin said over the comms as Nightwing joined him on the rooftop. "At least not from this angle."

"We've got nothing here," Batman agreed from his vantage point, where he crouched on the rooftop with Robin. The policemen had all gone, leaving the streets deserted. Even Christopher Renner's hideout was silent.

"He'll be here," Red Hood assured them as he and Batgirl arrived on the scene, in the streets below. "Now, we wait."

As if on cue, a white van hurtled around the corner, followed by two more.

"Three unmarked vans on the Northeast corner," Nightwing said quickly.

"Three on the Southwest, too," Robin added.

"Two coming from the Southeast and the Northwest," Batgirl commented.

"Dammit, Where's the Joker?!" Red Hood cried.

"Calm yourself, Red Hood. Let's handle this. On my command."

Nightwing and Red Robin tensed. Batgirl and Red Hood readied themselves on the street, and Robin looked up at Batman.

Identically clothed and masked Joker goons piled out of the vans, surrounding the building; they held up their guns and advanced from all directions.

"This is incredibly organized," Batgirl whispered.

"Which one is the Joker?" Red Hood hissed, scanning the clown masks.

"He's trying to confuse us," Nightwing said.

The Joker goons suddenly burst through every available door, flooding into the building.

"Now!" Batman ordered, and they dove into action. Batgirl ran to the back door as Red Hood raced around the vans, smashing the window out of each and dropping a gas bomb into it; knocking out the drivers. Red Robin and Robin did the same from the front and side doors, until every driver was unconscious. Batgirl, Batman, and Nightwing all raced to the three ground-floor doors. Nightwing and Batgirl quickly pulled out the handheld welding torch that Batman had given them, melting their respective door handles and then welding them closed around the edges.

"North door sealed," Nightwing pressed his comm as Red Robin joined him.

"South door secure," Batgirl added, stepping back from the door and bumping into Red Hood.

"Watch it," he snapped.

"East entrance finished." Batman confirmed. "Red Hood, Red Robin, and Robin- Stay out here and watch the perimeter. Batgirl, Nightwing; with me."

All three of them stepped back and simultaneously fired their grappling hooks.

"Nightwing, second floor. Batgirl, third floor." Batman commanded. Nightwing retracted the grappling hook, watched the windows race by, and then released the hook in time to smash through a second floor window.

"I'm in."

A crash above him was followed by a dull rolling across the floor as Batgirl broke her fall. "Third floor secure," she said, looking around the large empty storage area. The entire floor was one dusty, bird infested room, and she made her way to the stairs. Nightwing checked through each of the rooms in the office spaces of the second floor, and then met Batgirl by the stairs.

"Second floor secure," Nightwing pressed his comm. "Batgirl and I are coming to you," he told Batman.

"The goons are still searching the ground floor; no one in the offices on the second," Batman said as Batgirl and Nightwing came silently down the stairs to him. The three of them checked the small knockout-gas bombs and stun guns that they'd been equipped with.

"Nothing out here on my side," Red Robin whispered.

"Ditto," Red Hood said.

"East side is clean," Robin agreed.

"Good." Batman said gruffly. "Let's take care of this quickly and quietly."

"There ain't no one here!" They heard a goon cry from below them.

"I can't get out the door!" another called. Trying another door, he looked at the rest of them. "The doors are sealed! We have to-"

He was cut off as a smoke bomb exploded in front of him. Panicked goons opened fire, the bullets ricocheting off of the machinery on the machine floor. Another bomb blew up in the middle of the room, the sound of the gunfire and the gas hissing from the small cans joined by the coughing of the goons as they dropped to the floor. Two more containers blew, filling the room with a gray haze; the gunfire slowly ceased as the dull _thuds _of the final goons bodies hitting the floor sounded through the room. Nightwing took a deep breath through his gas mask, walking out into the center of the machine floor; he began pulling the masks off of the goons.

"No sign of the Joker," he said slowly, tugging the clown mask off of another unconscious goon.

"I don't think he's here," Batgirl agreed.

"Of course he isn't." Batman said, his voice muffled by his gas mask. "He wouldn't make so public a threat without taking some precaution. He wouldn't come. Robin, call the police and tell them that they can come get these men."

Batman walked to the east door and kicked it open. Nightwing and Barbara followed, returning to the doors they'd welded shut and cutting them open again to let the gas out. Sirens wailed toward them, echoing in the tall buildings.

"Red Hood, get out of here. Batgirl, Red Robin; you're relieved too. Head back to the Batcave." Batman ordered, and the other heroes dispersed without another word. Robin and Nightwing joined Batman at the east doors as several police vehicles pulled up. The Commissioner walked slowly up to Batman and Robin. "There are twenty men in the building, and eight drivers in the vehicles. You have Renner's operation in custody?"

"Yeah," the Commissioner said slowly, "but Renner himself is dead. One of our new officers murdered him. Looks like he was working for the Joker. I did thorough background checks on them all and I still ended up with a corrupt cop…" Gordon shook his head.

"Don't beat yourself up about it, Commissioner Gordon." Nightwing assured him with a hand on his shoulder.

"Anyway," Commissioner Gordon sighed, smiling at them. "We dismantled his drug operation, and now we have Joker henchmen, thanks to you. Your plan worked, Batman, we avoided a lot of death."

Joker surveyed the chaotic scene from above as his henchmen were loaded into police vehicles one by one, Harley Quinn standing at his side. He scowled angrily down at Batman, wanting nothing more than to torture him in every way he knew possible, but it would have to wait.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know about Batman's plan," Harley squeaked. Joker grinned.

"It's no matter. He won, and I won. We accomplished our goal; Renner's operation is dismantled. We had a common enterprise." Joker smiled darkly, staring down at the three heroes and the Commissioner.

"Well then that's perfect, Puddin'!" Harley giggled, and the Joker suddenly whirled and caught her by the throat.

"Do _not-_" his hand tightened on her neck and she gasped, clawing at his hand. "-call me 'Puddin'." Joker hissed, his teeth clenched in a sinister grin. He let out a wheezing giggle. _She called me that. Only she can call me that._

"Joker- p-please-" the replacement struggled for air, her hands weakening as she tried to pry his fingers away. He closed his eyes, his face twisting in fury. _Betrayal. All we were- betrayed._ The new Harley's hands fell away from her neck as she slipped into unconsciousness, and he dropped her on the roof. Joker rubbed his temples.

"We have work to do, my dear," he muttered cheerily. "Quit lying around." Joker cackled and then grabbed Harley's arm to drag her away over the rooftop.


	13. She Can Handle It

_**There's more here than two.**_

_**Dick and Harley's relationship suffers with bars between them, but it's more than that- Dick's double life as Nightwing is both a hindrance and a blessing. The whole Batman family knows the feeling; a double identity takes a toll on anyone, no matter how close to the chest their secret is played.**_

_**For Jason, however, there's more than meets the eye. By day he's Jason Todd, a ghost, legally dead; but by night he is what he chooses. Be it not-so-heroic hero, or not-so-villainous villain, he is what he pleases. Going behind Batman's back is a concept he's familiar with, but is this about more than his desperate need to lash out?**_

Pamela Isley opened the door the maintenance room that was her home with a sigh. She flicked the light on, kicking her heels off. She froze.

"What the _hell _are you doing here?" She put her hands on her hips and turned toward Harley's cot, cocking her hip. Red Hood was lounging on it, his fingers laced under the back of his head.

"I _was_ considering nap," he grumbled.

"Get out of my place!"

"Not much of a place," he commented, "but I must get the name of your decorator." Red Hood sat up. "Take a chill pill, Flower. You're looking a little _pale_." Pamela blanched, unable to find words for her fury. She was still dressed for work, even wearing an Arkham ID tag with her name on it.

"You," she breathed. "I will-"

"-Relax." He chuckled. "You already know who I am, so consider us even."

"We are by no means _even_," she hissed. Red Hood sighed. He pulled his helmet off and set it beside him.

"Better?" Jason asked. Pam didn't say anything.

She got the impression that he didn't sleep much. It seemed like the dark hollows under his blue eyes were permanently etched there, and his long bangs swept across his forehead. His strong jaw was softened as he flashed her a sardonic smile.

"I thought your secret identity would be a nicer person."

"Well you were never supposed to know, were you?" Pam snapped.

"Okay, okay." Jason raised his hands up in surrender. "I'm sorry." He was unable to help blurting out, "But why do you look so human?" Pam paused but decided there was no point not to answer anymore.

"I'm suppressing my chlorophyll," she finally admitted.

"What about the pheromones and the…" He poked his arm to mime touching. She rolled her eyes.

"I can still use my pheromones, and _yes_, my toxicity is suppressed… as long as I concentrate," she added.

"Got it. Keep my distance." there was an awkward pause between them. "Hey," Jason exclaimed, looking at her name tag. "Pamela Isley. Aren't you a botanist or plant something?" He glanced around the room and shot her a 'really' look.

"My secret identity isn't meant to draw suspicion away from me. Poison Ivy isn't just an alternate identity or something, I am her. That part of me was created from my views."

"So you walk around talking about the superiority of Mother Nature at work and hate men?" He looked at her for confirmation. "I'm sorry, but I just can't picture a Pamela doing that. Sounds like someone who'd be a good housewife and married to a guy named Jim."

"It's men who have-" Pamela cut herself off, not wanting to be goaded on by him. "Men have only proved themselves inferior," she sniffed.

"Parsley, you just haven't been with the right man." Jason winked at her. Pam felt too wide a range of emotions to know what to say to that, but luckily she didn't have to respond; Jason just kept talking. "And since when did you work at Arkham?" He studied her name tag more thoroughly.

"Since it was none of your business," she snapped.

"Ooo!" Jason stood up. "You and Harley are up to something!" He pointed accusingly at her.

"And if we are?" Pam taunted.

"Then I want in," he said simply. She was stunned for a second but quickly returned her face to a sneer.

"Why?" she asked.

"Why not?" he countered.

"You don't even know what we're doing."

"Details." Jason shrugged.

"What if we're working for the Joker?"

He paused for a moment. "Are you?"

"Maybe."

"Would I get the chance to get some form of revenge or inflict horrible punishment?" he asked.

"Maybe," Pam admitted.

"Then I'm in." Pam glared at him, frustrated. They had shifted closer during their argument. She realized she could easily use her pheromones to get what she wanted, but found she didn't really want to. She wanted to win this argument; she wanted to beat him.

"You're not welcome," she hissed, turning away.

"Oh, come on." Jason grabbed her sleeve, pulling her back. A look of confusion crossed her face. He realized; people were too afraid to touch her if they knew who she was. He had completely forgotten she could kill him if he was careless. _Shit Jason. Don't do anything stupid here_. He quickly released her arm. _Although you don't even have a good reason for being here_, he scolded himself. "Let me help," he said quickly to cover up the moment.

"No," she said.

"_Please_."

"No."

"Well why not?" he demanded.

"Because," she snapped.

"Oh, great reason," Jason scoffed.

"_Because_," she glared at him, "I don't trust you."

"What?" Jason cried. "I am completely trustworthy. Cross my heart and hope to die… again." She almost laughed.

"Very clever."

"See!" Jason exclaimed. "I'd be bringing that to the group as well." Pam rolled her eyes.

"There is no group."

"Let me help you and Harleen, and three's a group. We can be the threatening threesome... No that sounds inappropriate." He looked thoughtful and snapped his fingers. "The laugh attack pack." Pam burst into laughter. "You're right. It sounds like we hate fun."

"I feel like you would dumb us down."

"So still a no." He grinned, and she grinned back. After a second, the smile slid off Pam's face, and she turned away so even though this was the first time he'd had his helmet off, she couldn't see his reaction. "Oh come on, Parsnip, we're on the same team for once. I thought our goal was to get Dickie Bird and the Red Jester back together."

"Who says that's not what I'm doing?" The sneer was back on Pam's face. Jason mock gasped.

"You commandeered my plan? You're doing it without me? I've been plan napped?!"

"She wants to do it for him, so…" She shrugged.

"Okay, but I want to help," Jason said suddenly serious. His blue eyes seemed much more prying all of a sudden, and Pam knew that if she could blush, she would be. "The plan was to turn her good," neither of them commented on the irony of the the two them trying to help improve someones morales, "and get her and Dick back together, not dangle her former lover in front of her like a piece of meat."

"She's not going to break when she sees the Joker."

"Are you sure? Your girl's not exactly been known to make the sanest decisions."

"She can handle it," Pam insisted.

"Okay. Let me know when you want to let me in the loop."

"Let me know when you want to grow up," she snapped.

"See, I knew you liked me." Jason winked, picking up his helmet. "I'll see you around Poppy Seed." He headed toward the door.

"I'm starting to think you just looked up plant names," she told him. He opened the door and paused.

"Would that be a bad thing?" he asked with a smirk before leaving. One corner of her mouth turned up in a reluctant smile as she stared at the closed door.


	14. Bang

_**It's hard leading a double life.**_

_**The Joker issues his second threat, but something is off. His replacement Harley Quinn can see it, and so can the rest of his men. The unease hangs in the air. On top of his growing insanity, he's plagued by hallucinations; talking to Harley as if she still stood by his side and he can't stop himself- he misses her.**_

_**Meanwhile Bruce has to tear himself away from the life of Bruce Wayne, one he's actually beginning to enjoy as a life rather than a facade, but he can't escape it for long. Dick makes friends in the department, momentarily taking his mind off of his troubles with his alter ego, but only for a moment. **_

The Joker clicked his tongue and wagged a finger at the camera.

"Batman, you ruined the surprise for yourself. It's no fun if you're going to do that. Batman and friends, people of Gotham; welcome to the next installment of the show. It's a shame I didn't get to play with you at Renner's place, but I had places to be. That's no problem though! Our second date will be much more fun." Joker clapped and laughed.

Harley Quinn rubbed her neck and held the camera steady. She knew that she was the replacement; an expendable doll to be used as the Joker pleased. He'd obviously had feelings for the last one, that Dr. Harleen Quinzel, though she'd never mention the name ever again. She wouldn't remind him of her any more than she had to, at the risk of being throttled again.

"Now," the Joker grinned, "You've pressed me for time, so I didn't find anyone to kill this time. But I promise-" he held up three fingers in a Boy Scout salute- "that will be fixed soon enough. You've showed me that I can't always rely on my little flying monkeys to do things right, so it looks like I'll have to do this myself. I'll get you Batman, and your little _dogs_ too!" He giggled and then laughed. Harley Quinn cringed.

She couldn't get over that _laugh._ Joker's voice was teasing. He was quite literally joking with Batman. _At least he hasn't killed anyone in this video yet,_ she thought, smiling at him. Joker grabbed the camera, grinning darkly into the lens.

"Meet me at the hotel, Darling. I'll be wearing my best and waiting for _you._" He cackled and released the camera violently, and Harley Quinn reached down and turned the live feed off.

"Damn," Bruce cursed as the screen went dark and then returned to the news where a nervous looking reporter asked if they were back. He stood by the fireplace, watching the television. Selina yawned from the couch, a half empty wine glass in her hand.

"That's usually _my _cue to leave," she sighed, standing up. Bruce caught her arm.

"Now hold on a minute-"

"-Bruce," she cut him off, laughing softly. "I can't stay."

"Well why not?" he asked, smiling. She rolled her eyes.

"Do you really intend to ignore that?" She stroked his cheek. "I _could _stay."

"I can't ignore it, Selina, he's going to kill someone." Bruce said. "I just wanted to say goodbye first." He leaned in to kiss her and Selina turned her head away from him.

"Don't you ever get _tired _of this?" she asked, looking at him.

"I have to do it. This is my responsibility."

"No it isn't. What if you and I just took the boys and disappeared?" she purred, her hands sliding up to his shoulders. Bruce smiled softly and shook his head.

"You know I could never do that."

"Well what are you going to do about the Joker at this moment? He said 'meet me at the hotel.' he didn't say when or where or _why_. It could be a trap. It could be anything, Bruce," she said, looking at him seriously.

"The Joker attacked the biggest drug ring in the city first. I can only assume he's working his way down from there. Number two is named James Shan, and his operation runs from an abandoned hotel in West Gotham. I can take care of myself," he replied, the firelight flickering on his strong jaw and dark brow. Selina shook her head.

"So can I. Sometimes I don't know how you still trust me. I could go out and steal whatever I wanted, with Batman wrapped around my finger the way you are," she joked, smiling and smoothing his dark hair. Bruce smiled a little.

"Then I'll have to make sure I keep you well fed here," he said, producing a small box. Inside was a diamond bracelet. Selina cried out in delight and slipped it over her wrist.

"You know, you don't have to buy my affection," she smiled, admiring the way the diamonds sparkled in the firelight. Bruce took her hand.

"I may not have to, but I want to." He said gently, and her eyes gleamed.

"Bruce Wayne. Doesn't he just throw money at his problems? Isn't that hard to live with?" Joan asked, pulling her hat low over her head.

"Yes and no," Dick laughed again as they walked up the front steps of the station. The moment they stepped in the door, Commissioner Gordon raced over to them.

"Where the _hell_ have you two been!?" he demanded, and Dick frowned.

"We were-"

"-Never mind where you were. Just- _don't _do it again. Batman brought in over thirty men to be booked- it's been chaos around here! We could've used you!" Joan and Dick looked down guiltily. "Since you two were off playing hooky, I sent your partners on a call together. You two, in the meantime, can finish filing all of the reports from the drug bust."

Dick groaned as the Commissioner walked away. He and Joan walked back to their desks, across the aisle from one another, and sat down. Most of the other officers were handling cleanup at the factory where Batman and Robin had caught all of the Joker gang members, and the ones that weren't were out on assignments or traffic. Dick and Joan were the only two people left in the big empty room. After a while of only the sound of papers shifting on their desks, Dick looked up.

"Why did you leave your old city?" he asked, then added quickly "if you don't mind me asking."

Joan finished what she was writing on her paper and then looked up, pushing her hair behind her ear. "No, it's fine," she said distractedly, lost in thought. She shook her head slowly. "I guess I got sick of being used."

"What do you mean?" Dick asked. Joan laughed a little.

"Just the stereotypical divorce movie," she sighed, taking her glasses off and wiping the lenses as she leaned back in her chair. "Mommy and Daddy kept using me to get back at each other. So I skipped town, joined a rock band, went to the academy, then became a cop."

"Long story short?" Dick asked, and Joan nodded ruefully. "I'm sorry," he said.

"I don't need your pity, kid," she smiled. He shrugged.

"Good, because it's not pity. It's sympathy. A clear difference that I had to discern for myself when Bruce took me in."

Joan examined him for a moment. "Harley Quinn is lucky she has you. She's lucky that she got away from the Joker, and that she has you to help her. You're a good man, Dick Grayson..."

"...but I just wish you'd been a little less meddlesome," the Joker sighed, twirling the revolver in his hands. The useless man trembled in front of him, and fury welled in the Joker's throat. He growled angrily and fired the gun twice, and the man hit the ground. "Can't find _any _good help these days," he muttered. and then stepped over the body distastefully, poking his head through the door. He squinted into the darkness at the other end. "Hey!" he shouted, and the two men at the end of the hall straightened up. "Dumb and Dumber, get down here."

"Us?" one of them stuttered. The Joker rolled his eyes.

"Oh, you're there too! Get _down _here, I need you to clean this mess up!" he cried angrily, and they hurried down the hall to him. Joker sighed irritably and walked over the body. "Take this out of here, would you?"

_Well why'd you have to go and kill him in the first place, Mistah J?!_

"Because he betrayed me! Shut up, Harley," Joker snapped. The goons looked at each other confusedly, and dragged the body out into the hall; Joker sat down at his desk and began scrawling on a notepad.

_You're always workin, Mistah J. Take the night off! Let's have some fun!_

Joker's pen dragged across the paper, and he screamed angrily, shooting up from his chair and throwing the notepad. "I told you I'm _busy_, Harley!" he roared to the empty room.

"Leave me alone," Bruce grumbled, but the corner of his mouth twitched. Selina took this as an invitation to steal another kiss. Bruce avoided her lips. "I mean it, Selina!" he snapped, and she smiled. He sat at the computer banks in the Batcave, analyzing the signal from the Joker's terrorist video. Selina leaned on the chair behind him, draping her arms over his chest.

"I told you, I want to help," she smiled, pressing her lips into his hair. Bruce nodded.

"I know, and I told _you _that I didn't need it. I already have all four of my sons on this Joker mission with me, I don't need the stress of you in harm's way as well."

"You're _always _stressed," Selina pouted, dropping her Catwoman mask on Bruce's Batman cowl where it sat on the desk.

"That isn't true." Bruce objected, but didn't look away from the computer screen. Selina grinned and stroked his cheek.

"Bruce." She cooed, but he didn't respond. "_Bruce_." She said a little more forcefully. When he didn't respond, Selina hooked her finger in his collar and pulled him close. Bruce blinked in surprise.

"Selina, don't!" Bruce shook his head. She ran her hands through his hair and cupped his face in her hands, looking into his eyes.

"You are always stressed. And I want to help you; to _ease _the burden, not make it worse. I've made my way in the world before you and I were together. You need to let me help you." She purred. Bruce looked up at her, his handsome face dark and serious. She wished more than anything that she could break through his barrier completely, but she was grateful for the progress she'd made with him this far. Selina sighed. "Maybe there's some way that I can help. If it's not with the mission, then so be it," she whispered in his ear, rubbing his shoulders under his cape. Bruce closed his eyes and smiled a little as Selina kissed his neck, and then jumped as Damian materialized by his side, scowling.

"What are you doing?" Joan demanded, looking over Dick's shoulder. He jumped and his knees hit the desk.

"Ow! What? What are you doing over here!?" he demanded, sliding the sketch under a piece of paper on his desk. She sat on his desk, tugging it out.

"I got bored over there. And _you _aren't filing any reports, so I'm not going to either. This is good," she handed the sketch of Batman back to him. "The detail is uncanny, you'd think that you've seen him up close."

"Yeah well. I've been on the force a long time…" Dick rubbed the back of his neck and smiled.

"So you know a lot about Bats?" She grinned, looking at him.

"I suppose. Why?"

"Cuz he's kinda awesome. Once a vigilante, always a vigilante," she shrugged. "I admire his stamina and his drive. Him and all of the rest."

Dick smiled and looked down. It was hard being a vigilante, he'd admit it just as soon as any of his brothers would, but the small tokens of gratitude from the people, even when they didn't know that they were directly thanking him; were more than he could ask for. "I think so too."

"Can I keep this?" Joan asked, holding up Dick's sketch of Batman. He cocked his head.

"Why?"

"Look, kid. I like art. I told you I was in a rock band, right? It's my thing."

Dick leaned back in his chair. "You were in a band."

"Yeah."

"You like art," Dick smiled.

"Yeah. Is that a problem?" she laughed.

"But you chose to be a cop." Dick concluded. Joan looked down.

"Remember how I told you that my parents used me as a weapon in their divorce? Well… I was constantly told that I could be whatever I wanted. When I wanted to be an artist, my dad bought me my own studio. When I wanted to be in a band, my mom bought me a Fender and got me a tattoo-"

"-wait, you have a tattoo?" Dick interrupted, grinning. Joan snorted and rolled her eyes.

"God, Grayson, you're such a _guy._" She laughed and stood, unbuttoning her shirt.

"Whoa, Joan-" Dick started but she cut him off.

"-don't be a pussy. I've got on a tank top, too. I'm not going to try and take you from your girl." She laughed, pulling her shirt away from her tan shoulder. Dick blinked in surprise as she showed him the silhouette of a black bird.

"It's nice," Dick smiled. She buttoned her shirt.

"I got tired of being a weapon. I wanted to be my own person."

Dick looked down, closing his eyes.

"I know how you feel," the Joker mumbled, pacing his office. "I know how you feel. They probably have you chained up locked up- but _no_. You betrayed me. _Damn _you!" he shouted, wringing his hands.

"Boss?" a man said, poking his head around the corner. Joker whirled.

"What. Is it?!" he demanded, glaring at him. The man cringed.

"Who are you talking to, sir?" he asked hesitantly.

"Harley, of course," Joker snapped. "Is everything ready for tonight?! Everything… checked? Loaded? Packed?" He demanded. The man smiled reassuringly.

"Yes, Mr. Joker, sir."

"Well!?" Joker demanded, his white face makeup smeared, the curl hanging in front of his forehead from his smooth hair. "Get out of here!" he barked. The man scrambled away and the Joker screamed, kicking the door shut behind him. He rushed to the corner and ran his hands through his hair, dropping to the floor and pulling his knees to his chest. He pulled out his gun, glaring at it. A grin spread across his face. He giggled softly.

_What's wrong, Mistah J?_

He cackled loudly, turning the gun around so the barrel pointed at his head. When the little flag popped out, he stared at it.

"Bang," he whispered, and then the grin spread wider across his face. He laughed, the sound filling the silence. "Bang!" he screamed, howling with laughter, loose strands of his green hair flying around his head. Tearing the flag out of the barrel of the gun, the Joker pulled the trigger over and over, the sound of the clicking mixing with his wheezing laughter. He choked and coughed, still chuckling as angry tears spilled down his cheeks and he pulled himself further into the corner, wrapping his arms around his knees as he laughed and sobbed into his arms.

"What are you doing in the corner, Damian?" Bruce asked, looking across the Batcave at him. Damian didn't respond, his earbuds in his ears as he scrawled in his sketchbook. Bruce shook his head. "This Joker video; he didn't give us any leads. I've been poring over my notes, and I can't find anything. I need outside help on this."

"That's what I've been trying to tell you." Selina said. "What's wrong with Damian?"

"He's been so distant lately, Selina," Bruce confessed.

"Well have you done anything with him?" she asked, sitting on his desk.

"Get off my desk. I took him out on a mission, just me and him," Bruce pondered, and Selina rolled her eyes, sliding into his lap. "Selina…" he grumbled. She wound her arms around his neck.

"Stop being so grumpy, Bats. You know, bats are actually quite shy and sweet creatures. Too bad you couldn't use _that _quality more." She put a finger on his lip before he could protest. "And taking him out to beat up Gotham's lowlifes doesn't count as father-son bonding time."

"I don't require 'father-son bonding time' with Father, Miss Kyle, I'll thank you to stay out of my business," Damian snapped, glancing at them. Selina rolled her eyes and Bruce dropped his voice lower so Damian couldn't hear them talking. The boy glanced up, narrowing his eyes suspiciously, sketching the crude outline of Selina's figure where she sat on Bruce, next to a picture of Alfred holding a tray. Selina jumped as Damian's Great Dane trotted past her, and she watched it walk over and curl up beside Damian. The boy stroked it's long, dark face.

"I just don't know what to do about him lately," Bruce whispered. Selina stroked his cheek.

"Be his father, not his master," she replied, tracing his lips with her finger. Bruce frowned, and she sighed sadly. "And smile more." She smiled, kissing him gently.

"Your comfort with displaying your affection in front of me is disturbing," Damian called, not looking up from his sketchbook as he traced Selina's lips on Bruce's. He smiled a little, and looked up at them, narrowing his eyes. "You're ignoring me, aren't you?" Selina smiled into Bruce's kiss. Damian scowled. "I bet I could get you to talk to me," he sneered. Now that the attention wasn't on him, he wanted it back. They still didn't respond. "What if I said something totally insane? Something totally unexpected?"

"...I'm gay." Joan smiled, popping a piece of popcorn into her mouth.

"No." Dick grinned at Joan. "_Really?_" He was sitting on his desk with his feet up on it, his shirt untucked and his police hat cocked at an angle on his head. She tossed a piece of popcorn across the aisle and they both cheered when Dick caught it in his mouth.

"Yeah," she laughed. "Call it whatever you will, a side effect of the divorce or whatever; but I say I was born this way, bitches."

Dick tossed his head back and laughed. "I _never _would have guessed."

"Through and through," she smiled. "Your turn. Now you gotta tell me something."

Dick pursed his lips. "I don't know."

"Oh come on!"

"Well it's not like yours was some big secret!"

"You're right," Joan smiled, throwing him another piece of popcorn. "So tell me a not-so-secret secret that nobody in the department knows."

Dick cocked his head at her. "Nobody except Will," he smiled.

"Agreed," she leaned forward, her black police shirt hanging around her waist from her belt.

"I was in the circus."

"An acrobat, yeah," she smirked. "I knew that."

"How did you know that!?" Dick demanded, laughing.

"You do your research, I do mine!" She protested, leaning back in her chair. "You were cute. And now you _own_ the circus, right?"

"Yep." Dick smiled at her.

"Maybe I'll have to come sometime." Her eyes sparkled. He smiled broader and sighed.

"Okay. Secret…" he looked down. "I was engaged to the Commissioner's daughter for a year. Only Will knows that." Dick looked at her. She frowned.

"Well what happened?" Joan asked. Dick ran a hand through his hair.

"He was kind of an asshole." Barbara grinned, walking up between them. She scanned the popcorn on the floor, the waste bins filled with blank, crumpled pieces of notebook paper, and the Origami boat on Dick's desk. "Came to see Daddy, and found you here, doing nothing," she smiled.

"The redhead is her? You're her?" Joan looked up at her, her glasses holding her bangs back from her face. She looked at Dick. "Hot."

"Better clean yourself up," Barbara rolled her eyes and smiled at Dick. "Daddy sees this and you won't be free on Friday anymore. He's in a bad mood and _bound _to make you work overtime if he catches you screwing around with your friend."

"Sorry Babs," Dick took his feet off the desk, and he and Joan watched her walk down the aisle and disappear into the Commissioner's office. Joan grinned at him.

"You missed out, buddy."

"I don't think so," Dick shrugged.

"Right, you've got your psychopath now." Joan smirked, taking another handful of popcorn.

"Don't call her that." Dick warned.

"Just joking, kid," she laughed, and then glanced down at her phone as it buzzed. Her face fell. "Speaking of jokes… I've got to go."


	15. I Am Superman

_**The Joker's attacks are nearing a climax.**_

_**With Poison Ivy and his new Harley Quinn, the Joker is closing in on the plan he's been working on for weeks. Harley has told Batman that everything the Joker does is to distract him from the bigger picture- but he may be too late to stop it.**_

_**The Batman family teams up with Harley Quinn in one desperate attempt to thwart the Joker's plan as it gains traction. The result of the distraction, however, could be almost as deadly as the initial plot.**_

"_...Because I am Superman_," Harley sang to herself quietly in her cell. She knew it was night, but there wasn't a window, so she couldn't see the sky. She realized how much she missed the moon. The things she missed were not at all what she had expected.

She missed music and being able to go to the bathroom whenever she wanted. The way she could tell the mood of the day from the sky. She missed smog. She had thought she was going to miss Dick, but he had surprised her. Harley touched her lips and smiled as she thought about him.

"Miss Quinzel," a voice said.

"It's Dr. Quinzel actually," she corrected, turning to look at the cell door. "Well, well, look who decided to pay me a visit." She walked over to the bars and smiled up at Batman. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Don't play with me Harley," he warned. The only light on was the one over the door down the hall, and he was mostly in shadow. She could just make out his eyes.

"Sorry." She put her hands up in surrender. "Old habits die hard." She crossed her arms. "What do you want?"

"No one has gotten closer to the Joker than you."

"Thanks for reminding me," Harley snapped.

"So you probably know him better than anyone," Batman continued, "and can help me."

"I think we both remember what happened the last time I thought I knew what the Joker wanted," she said, poking her head through the bars. "I am sorry about kidnapping you," she added as an afterthought.

"I'm sorry about what happened to you." Batman said quietly. Harley tilted her head at him.

"I think one thing we can agree on that Dick is too blind to see is that I deserved it," she told him harshly.

"No," Batman shook his head. "No one deserves that. Everyone deserves a chance to better themselves."

"Is that what this is? A second chance?" Harley crossed her arms over her chest.

"In a way."

She sighed. "What can I do?"

"You heard about the broadcast?" Harley rolled her eyes, not even bothering to answer. "You told Dick that this is just a distraction."

"That doesn't change the fact that you still have to go," she told him. "It may be a trap, but you're still going to walk into it."

"Why?" he demanded.

"Because he'll kill all of those people whether you show up or not, and you're not the type of person who's just gonna let that happen are you?" Batman didn't answer. "See I may know him, but he knows you."

"What can I do?"

"Be prepared," she said simply. "Keep your hand hidden and call his bluff. He wouldn't be so worried about distracting you with all of this if he wasn't desperate to keep you away from something."

"But what?" Batman demanded.

"Hey, I'm not freaking Martian Manhunter here! I can't just read his mind and find out. Besides, I can't find out anything from here." She put her hands on the bars. "You're going to have to find out some way to figure it out on your own."

"How?"

Harley wrinkled her brow in thought. "He does like to draft out most of his smaller plans. He might have whatever he's planning for James Shan written down if it's just a minor distraction. If you're lucky, he'll have what he's really up to." She wrinkled her nose. "You could try his hideout, but I'm sure he moved once I turned loony bin. So you would have to find that, and for that I would need to see some police reports…" She trailed off.

"Why police reports?"

"He made a stupid code he always wanted to see if you would solve. If you could, it would lead you right to him." Harley rolled her eyes. There was some shuffling around in the other cells as the other inmates became aware of what was happening. Harley knit her brow, deep in thought again.

"He must know you suspect something, and that I may have told you any amount of information and changed his plans, so what does he have planned to keep you and everyone else occupied?" She mused. "He wouldn't want the cops there; they would just get in his way." She shook her head. "Sorry I can't be more help."

"Is there nothing else you can tell me?" Batman growled.

"I'm doing the best I can! This isn't exactly easy for me okay? It's kind of a lot to deal with, I mean I was your enemy for years."

"We-all of us-," Batman stressed, and Harley closed her eyes at the thought of Dick, "need your help."

"Do you really want my help?" she asked. Batman nodded. "Are you sure? Fine, then we are going to do this my way, okay?"

"Again with the cryptic meeting places and the darkness and the vague messages-" Nightwing muttered as he sprinted along the rooftops. Despite his long day and night, he still felt energized and ready to work. "-can't ever just meet up at a Burger King or something. Always the most abandoned place in the most decrepit part of Gotham," he mumbled irritably. Leaping off of the roof, he enjoyed his fall before firing the grappling hook and swinging up onto the next rooftop. Nightwing couldn't help but laugh. He surged forward and jumped off of the roof again, rolling to break his fall on the shingles of the building below it. He did a round-off and then a graceful back handspring, coming to a stop a few feet away from Batman. Panting, Nightwing walked toward the circle of heroes.

"And how is everyone tonight? Catwoman! Nice to see you out of the house." He smiled, putting his hands on his hips. Batman looked at him expectantly, and Nightwing stared back at him blankly. "...What?"

"The files? Where are the files?" Batman said gruffly. Nightwing blinked.

"Oh! Oh right right right." Nightwing laughed, pulling the tightly folded files out of his glove pocket. Batgirl and Robin exchanged amused glances, watching Nightwing confusedly. "Here." He handed them to Batman with a smile.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Robin asked, crossing his arms. Nightwing scowled at him.

"What? I had a good day, leave me alone." He shrugged.

"What are we doing here?" Red Robin asked, ignoring Nightwing.

"I brought in some help to stop the Joker," Batman said, holding out the files.

"Sorry!" Harley called, jumping onto the roof. "Turns out gas station attendants don't like selling maps to convicts. What'd I miss?"

Nightwing gaped at her. She was standing there smiling at him, still in her orange Arkham jumpsuit. He stuttered for a moment before turning to Batman and throwing his arms around him, hugging him tight.

"What the f-" Batman started in surprise. Releasing him, Nightwing raced to Harley and wrapped his arms around her waist, twirling her in the air as he laughed. Red Robin actually burst into laughter, and Robin covered his mouth. Even Batgirl smiled at the fool he was making of himself. Nightwing laughed and put her down again. He hugged her tight, his grin spreading across his face. "You- did you-" he turned to Batman, his hands in Harley's.

"Batman told me you guys could use some help," Harley said, a wide smile on her face. Nightwing grinned again and- in front of everyone- kissed her passionately, his hands on her cheeks. When he pulled back he rested his head against hers, laughing happily.

"If you two are done," Batman interrupted. "Maybe we could get to the matter at hand."

"Right!" Harley broke away. She took the files from Batman and started looking through them. "No," she muttered to herself, throwing one aside. She sifted through until she had four files. "Here we go!" She pulled out the map she had bought and laid it out on the roof, squatting down beside it. Flipping each file open, she made a dot on the map in red Sharpie for each one. She drew a line between three of the dots. "Done."

Everyone bent to look at the map. It was a smiley face missing an eye. "And the missing eye is where the Joker's hideout will be," she told them proudly.

"I _like _having her on the team." Tim said, looking up at Batman.

"Don't get used to it," Batman told him.

"I'm only on loan from the loony bin," Harley added bitterly.

"I'll be damned if they're taking you away from me again," Nightwing said, glaring at Batman defiantly, a hand on Harley's shoulder. Batman pinched the bridge of his nose in irritation. He had been afraid that this would happen.

"We'll discuss this later," he said tiredly. "We need to focus on the Joker."

"I suggest sending Batgirl and Robin to go to go scout out the Joker's hideout," Harley said, standing up. "The Joker keeps his plans in the top right desk drawer," she added. "Everyone else will need to distract him until we know what he's up to with James Shan. So Batgirl and Robin need to get that information fast." She blinked and looked around. "Where's Red Hood?"

"He was busy," Batman said evenly. "He has his own things to deal with. In the meantime, Robin. Batgirl. Take the map with you and go to the Joker's base of operation." Batman hesitated, and then reluctantly nodded. "Take Red Robin with you."

"You can't be-" Robin began, but Batman cut him off.

"-not a word, Robin. The rest of us will head to the hotel to stop the Joker."

"Maybe we should get Red Hood here," Harley said, her brow furrowing. "With so many of you gone, he's going to suspect something. Especially with Robin gone; he kind of has an obsession with killing him."

Batman's jaw clenched, and Nightwing stepped in helpfully. "Then we'll take Robin, and Red Robin and Batgirl can go to the hideout. Batgirl rarely works with us on a regular basis, and Red Robin is never in town to. He won't suspect anything if they aren't there."

"I don't want them to go alone," Batman said sternly. As Red Robin and Batgirl began to protest, Catwoman touched Batman's shoulder.

"I'll go," she purred, looking him in the eye. Batman seemed even more reluctant now than he had before, and Catwoman smiled. "You can let me out of your sight once in a while, Batman. I promise I won't get hurt."

"I still don't like Robin facing the Joker while he has the upper hand," Harley muttered, looking at Robin with worry etched on her face. Robin glanced up at her and scowled.

"I won't get thrown out a window, if thats what you mean."

"Robin!" Nightwing cried, staring at him incredulously.

"Nightwing!" he replied sarcastically, waving his hands in the air. Nightwing grabbed him by his cape.

"Apologize."

"No!" Damian snapped, looking at Nightwing like he was crazy. Nightwing shook his cape angrily.

"Now!"

"I apologize," Damian shouted, crossing his arms. Batman looked between them in irritation. Harley pulled Nightwing away from Robin.

"Hey, it's okay." She looked Nightwing in the eye. "I wouldn't have come if I couldn't handle it," she assured him. Nightwing smiled, his irritation with Robin evaporating.

"And neither would _I_," Robin pointed out. "I can handle myself better than any of you can, now can we please get on with this?"

"Yes," Catwoman agreed, kissing Batman's cheek. "Be safe my love," she laughed softly, and then led Red Robin and Batgirl from the roof.

"Nice to see you again!" Harley called, waving to Catwoman.

"Now let's focus. We need to get to the hotel," Batman said. Harley felt Nightwing's hand slip into hers.

"That's halfway across the city, and we all can't fit in the Batmobile," Nightwing pointed out.

"Exactly why we didn't _bring_ the Batmobile," Robin smirked. Batman pressed a button on his gauntlet and the Batwing dropped silently from the sky, it's powerful engines making hardly a sound as it landed on the roof. Robin leaped into a seat, and Batman got into the cockpit. Nightwing lifted Harley up into the stealth jet and climbed up after her, situating himself in the seat behind Batman. He made sure to buckle Harley in before clicking his own belt over his chest. The cockpit slid closed, and the jet lifted off of the ground.

"Are we not going to talk about how cool this is?" Harley asked Nightwing in a whisper. Nightwing leaned over to her, smiling.

"Good guys get all the fun toys," he whispered back. "I would've loved to have had one of these- all I got when I was a kid was the Batboat. And even then, my Robin-Jetski was way cooler."

"And all I had was a hammer," Harley joked.

"Hey. The jester costume was kinda sexy when you weren't trying to bash my face in." Nightwing said quietly, grinning.

"I always avoided your pretty boy face," Harley teased.

"I do _not _have a-"

"-oh for the love of God," Robin whirled in his seat. "Would you two shut up already?" he demanded, and then slammed back into his seat angrily. Nightwing smiled and squeezed her hand, laughing quietly. Harley glanced at Batman and Robin's backs blushing.

"Don't be jealous, Robin," Nightwing sneered, a smile on his face. Robin growled angrily but ignored him, crossing his arms.

"Both of you stop it," Batman commanded.

"Fine." Nightwing held up a hand in surrender, and leaned close to Harley. "I'm not letting you go back," he whispered in her ear. Harley reached over and touched his cheek.

"Let's worry about tonight before we worry about tomorrow."

Nightwing nodded and squeezed her hand, leaning into her touch. The jet jolted a bit as Batman brought it down silently on a building across the road from the hotel.

"Robin with me to the north end," Batman instructed. "Nightwing, you and Harley to the south entrance. And keep her out of sight," he commanded. He tossed Harley a comm and quickly walked away, Robin trailing behind him.

"Not a problem," Nightwing nodded, instantaneously ready to get to work. He led Harley along the roof quietly to the south wall and jumped up onto the ledge, pulling out an escrima stick and firing the grappling hook into the concrete at his feet. He held out a hand to her. She grabbed it, and he pulled her tight to his body, holding her close. "Hold on," Nightwing told her as he smiled and jumped back over the ledge. She gasped as they fell for a moment, the cable releasing quickly, and she felt his arm tense around her waist as the cording broke their fall. He dropped down to the ground below and set her gently on her feet, the grappling hook pulling into the escrima stick as he put it in the holster on his back. "Come on," he whispered, going to the door. After trying the locked handle, he kicked it in, glancing around the corners and then pulling Harley in after him. The Joker's cackling stopped her in her tracks. Nightwing looked back at her. "What is it?"

"Something's not right," she muttered, eyes wide.

"What do you mean?" Nightwing looked at her in alarm. "Harley if you don't want to come, you can stay here. Just stay hidden. Safe." She looked at him.

"I'll be fine," she told him gently. "He just sounds wrong."

"He sounds… Harley be specific I don't understand-"

Nightwing was cut off as a man screamed from another room. The Joker's laugh tore through the air again.

"I have a bad feeling about this. We shouldn't be here," Harley pleaded with him. Nightwing took both of her hands and looked her in the eyes.

"We'll be fine, I promise, okay? I won't let anything happen to you. I'm here to catch you this time," he whispered earnestly. "I need to know if you're okay to continue. Are you _sure _you can do this?" She squeezed both of his hands and nodded slowly. Nightwing kissed her gently and then pulled her behind him as they crept down a hall toward the grand lobby. Looking around the spacious room, Nightwing spotted several of the drug lords, as well as James Shan; tied up in six chairs in a row in the center of the room. The Joker paced back and forth in front of them, muttering to himself. When he turned toward the hallway to pace back the way he'd come, Nightwing pulled Harley back, but not before she'd seen his face.

The Joker's normally pristine white face makeup was smudged and blackened around his reddened eyes, streaked down his face in streams. His hair stuck up every which way, curls hanging down in front of his forehead; his purple coat splattered with blood. The normally intelligent, sadistic gleam in his green eyes had disappeared, and in it's place was a hellishly vacant haze. He bit his gloved fist angrily and growled loudly.

"Where the hell is the Bat?!" he shouted, walking to the first drug dealer in the line. "Do you know where he is? Because normally he isn't that late, and I don't know how much time you all have." He sighed conversationally, what looked like a gun in one hand and a crowbar dangling loosely from the other.

"I'm over here Joker," Batman said. Joker whirled around, a grin spreading across his face.

"I've been waiting!" he called, spreading his arms and twirling the crowbar like a baton. "Don't come any closer and all that jazz," he cried, squinting into the shadows. "Did you bring your birdie with you? I brought my wing clipper," he howled with laughter, brandishing the crowbar.

"Let Shan and his men go. It's me you want to see."

"Oh! But it's not, you little attention whore!" Joker cackled with delight. "This little get together was for all of you! Still don't move!" he threatened when Batman stepped closer, his hand flying up and pointing his weapon at the first drug lord. It wasn't a gun.

"What is that?" Robin asked, at Batman's side.

"This?" Joker grinned at him. "It's an industrial-strength staple gun with inch long staples. It doesn't do much good for killing, but its good for torture." He shrugged casually, and then fired the staple gun at the dealer. He screamed, an inch-long staple embedding itself in his arm. "See? But if you get it just _close _enough, and just in the right spot-" with unbelievable speed, the Joker pressed the staple gun to the thug's temple and fired it twice. The man fell still and the Joker leaned down to look at his face. "See now I don't know if he's dead or if he's comatose. I'm not a medical man…"

"Why are you doing this?" Batman demanded.

"Same old boring questions!" the Joker screamed angrily. "You should know by now that there is no reason!" he spat as he walked behind the men tied to the chairs, his coattails following him. "Because- it's- fun-!" He howled, and with every word he fired a staple at the base of a dealer's neck. At the end of his sentence he frowned, realizing that he had one more thug in the lineup before Shan but no more words; he shrugged and stapled the back of his head anyway. The man screamed, his eyes still blinking but his body falling still. The Joker giggled and then burst into laughter. "Oh dear, I may have paralyzed that one…" He leveled his empty eyes on Batman. "I do it, because you can't stop me."


	16. I Want You to Remember

_**Arkham.**_

_**The Joker has Gotham's second biggest drug lord tied to a chair as he ceremoniously executes his employees- the rest are locked downstairs with a bomb. Batman, Robin, Nightwing, and Harley are the only people who can stop him now. **_

_**But they're just four heroes. Harley can barely stand in the Joker's presence without swooning in fear or infatuation, and Nightwing desperately tries to hold on to her. He may lose her again, or worse; lose them all. And it all boils down to Arkham.**_

Batman watched the Joker. "Really? Because I was told you were doing this to distract me."

"Wh-what?" The Joker straightened, looking at Batman strangely, a green curl hanging over his forehead. He smiled, his lips quivering like it was a difficult action; he frowned again. "Shut _up_ Harley, I'm working," he hissed to his left, and then looked at Batman, still a bit caught off guard. Harley jumped at the sound of her name and glanced toward the Joker, but Nightwing held onto her. He pulled her body close to his and wrapped his arms around her.

"I've been talking to an old friend of yours," Batman continued. Joker's lips twitched again.

"Have you now? Of course you have. Of course she talked. Okay, Joker-" he rubbed his face, more white makeup coming off on his deep purple gloves. "-you _planned_ for this. You know what to do, just-" He shook his head violently and brandished his crowbar.

"What the hell?" Nightwing muttered into Harley's hair.

Joker grinned at Batman. "How is she? Tucked away in a straightjacket somewhere?" His hands trembled.

"Better now that she's away from you," Batman told him. Joker's face twisted in rage.

"Don't you say that! Don't you _even _dare!" he cackled furiously, slamming the crowbar against the leg of the chair. Shan tipped over and landed on the floor as the leg splintered. "I was a friend to her when no one else was!"

"You _used _her!" Robin corrected.

"I liberated her!" Joker screamed, glaring at Robin hatefully. Nightwing covered Harley's ears, holding her head against his chest protectively, whispering reassuringly to her.

"Shhh, Harley, don't listen to him," he whispered, stroking her hair. "Don't listen." Harley clutched at his sides as she buried her face in his collarbone. Nightwing held her tight, his arms around her. She clung to the feeling of safety that the action had always generated.

"She was a sad little timid woman when I met her, and I set her free! She was never one of you! She belonged with _me_!" he shrieked, growing more and more catatonic as he spoke. "She was a friend to _me_," he hissed aside, staring vacantly at the floor. Joker snapped out of it and mopped a sleeve across his mouth. "But love her as I may, I guess that it's nearly impossible to find good help these days," he said weakly, his laugh rising from his throat. Harley Quinn skipped down the grand staircase into the lobby. When Nightwing saw her, he closed his eyes.

"You're stronger than him, Harley. Don't listen. Don't listen," Nightwing pleaded, closing his eyes. "I love you. He doesn't. Listen to _my _voice, focus on that. You need to focus on me." Harley could feel the pain of her broken bones and the burning of the gash in her shoulder and knew she should listen to Nightwing, but she was so confused. Everything hurt. She didn't want to think.

_I shouldn't have come_, she thought to herself.

"Harles, come on, I need you to focus on me." Nightwing pleaded, racking his mind for anything to distract her. He pressed his lips to her forehead, and to her surprise, he began to sing quietly. "_I am Superman, and I know what's happening, I am Superman, and I can do anything…_" Harley's surprised laugh was muffled by his shoulder. She wrapped her arms up through his and stood on her tiptoes.

"Thank you," she whispered, kissing him gently. Nightwing kissed her back, holding her close. When his lips fell away from hers, he stroked her cheek, looking into her eyes.

"I love you. Now don't die on me, okay?" He smiled a little, only half-joking.

"Bargaining like four year olds, but I can live with it." She smiled. "I love you too."

"This is my _new _friend. Say hello to Batman and Robin, Harley," Joker laughed, and the new Harley Quinn wagged her fingers at them.

"Hello there, Batman! Hello, kid!" Harley Quinn giggled.

"Now, since Batman has other things to be doing, I suggest we get this shindig over with and be on our merry, very _separate _ways," the Joker cackled excitedly, raising his crowbar to bring it down on Shan's head. A wingding shot from the hallway and the Joker cried out in pain as it sliced his hand, causing him to drop the crowbar on the floor. Joker clutched his hand, laughing.

"My favorite Robin," he hissed, as Nightwing stepped out of the hallway. Joker narrowed his eyes. "Were you hiding back there this whole time!? Not exactly the life of the party," he mumbled, and with a glance at the four dead men tied to the chairs added "then again, this isnt a very lively bunch either." He cackled, blood dripping from his glove. Harley Quinn seemed frozen in place. Nightwing looked down at Shan.

"Where are your other employees? What did he do with them?"

Shan glanced at the Joker and then quickly blurted, "they're downstairs, all locked in the boiler room. I think it's rigged to blow-"

"-oh you're all no fun," Joker sighed, hugging his wounded hand to his chest. Robin narrowed his eyes, watching the Joker.

"Shush," Nightwing commanded. "We have unfinished business, Shan," he said. Batman glanced at Harley Quinn where she stood motionless, her eyes fixed on Nightwing.

"If anyone has unfinished business, it's me with _you_," the Joker hissed. "And this time, I won't miss!" He screamed as he ripped a gun from his jacket, firing it at Nightwing-

-just as Robin shoved him out of the way.

Robin screamed as the bullet tore through his stomach, and Nightwing hit the marble floor. Damian landed hard and skidded a few feet, his mask falling off.

"Robin!" Batman screamed in anger, and the Joker shrieked with laughter. Batman grabbed him by the collar and slammed him down onto the floor.

"Now calm down, Bats," Joker cackled, holding up a bomb trigger. "All those people downstairs, you don't want them to die on account of some petty revenge. We all know how that works. Let me _go,_ or we _all _go- sky high!" he threw his head back and shrieked with laughter, his green curls laid out on the marble. Nightwing rushed to Robin, putting pressure on the bullet wound in his stomach.

"It's- just a graze- Grayson- d-don't act like I'm- going to-" Damian choked, putting his mask back on with trembling hands.

"You're _not_," Nightwing snapped, pressing as hard as he could into Robin's side. "Not if I have anything to say about it."

Batman released the Joker, his rage coursing through his veins. Joker held up the trigger, his thumb threatening to press the button as he stumbled to his feet. He grinned.

"Now you have a choice. Save your bird, or save those people," he tittered, a laugh escaping his lips. The Joker's face darkened. "Since this seems to be a hard decision, I'll make it easier. Five."

Robin coughed, blood dribbling from his lip.

"Four."

Nightwing pressed harder. "Stay with me here, Robin-"

"Three…"

Batman met Nightwing's eyes.

"Two, Batman, _two_-"

"Go!" Nightwing shouted at him.

"One," the Joker hissed, his finger dropping on the button.

Nothing happened.

"Civilians are secure, bombs disabled," Harley said, stepping out from the hallway. The Joker froze, and he choked, his eyes growing livid. He turned to see her standing by the door, cocked his head, and then smiled broadly. He grabbed Harley Quinn and pointed the gun at her head, holding her in front of him.

"You know I'll do it." He hissed at Batman, not taking his eyes off of Harley standing in the door, her hands hung limply at her sides and she seemed unable to move. Harley Quinn whimpered as the Joker backed toward the door. Her eyes met Harley's, pleading her for help, before they both disappeared into the street.

"Batman he's gonna bleed out!" Nightwing barked, wrapping the bandages he'd pulled from his glove around the cape that he'd been using to stop the blood. Batman shoved Nightwing aside and picked up his son, racing for the doors. He pressed the button to call the Batwing down to the street, and loaded Robin in the seat.

"Go," Nightwing urged him. "We'll finish here, just get him out of here!" Nightwing watched the Batwing take off before turning back to look at Harley. She was rooted in the same spot with her arms wrapped around her stomach.

"No, no, no. This can't be happening. This is all my fault," she whispered to herself. Nightwing quickly grabbed her shoulders and looked at her.

"Harley this isn't your fault. You didn't have any hand in this, you wanted him to go away and he refused. It's okay," he urged, looking her earnestly in the eyes.

"I knew this was a trap," she objected. "I shouldn't have let you guys come. Oh God, Robin." She shook her head feebly. Nightwing stopped her with a hand on her cheek, and he made her look at him. His head was bent to look at her directly, and he nodded seriously.

"You told us that it was a trap, and we were fully aware of the possible scenarios. This is what we do, Harley. It is not your fault, I won't let you blame yourself. None of us are to blame here." Harley leaned into him, and Dick wrapped his arms around her shoulders, resting his chin on her head.

"What if… what if he…" Harley mumbled unable to say it. "He better be all right," she demanded sternly. Nightwing smiled at her defensive reaction and held her close.

"He'll be fine," he assured her, though Nightwing couldn't bear the thought of losing Damian. He closed his eyes, his stomach knotting as he remembered Damian diving in front of him and knocking him out of the way…

_It should have been me._

Harley leaned away from him a bit to look into his eyes. "I don't think I ever told you how…happy you made me by coming to see me at Arkham. I was prepared for you to hate me. The fact that you don't and that you _love_ me is…" she trailed off. "I want you to remember how much I love you right now."

Dick reached up and pulled his mask off, smiling at her gently. He brushed a strand of flyaway hair behind her ear. "And I want you to remember that I love you, no matter what your past is like. As long as I am a part of your future, I'm happy."

"I don't care about the future," she said, brushing the matter aside. "I just want you to please remember right now. Please," she pleaded. Before Dick could respond, she stood up on her tiptoes and kissed him. Dick inhaled sharply in surprise, and he gently rested a hand on her hip, holding her against him. Harley's hands twisted in his hair desperately, pulling his face closer to hers as she kissed him urgently, and Dick was a bit shocked at her intensity. He kissed her passionately, their lips fervent against each others. His arms wrapped further around her waist as she moved one hand to the side of his neck, her thumb trailing up to his jaw. Dick shuddered and his lips fell away from hers, but their noses still touched as he gasped a little, his eyes still shut tight. She could feel his heart pounding in his chest. He opened his blue eyes and looked at her seriously, concern etched on his handsome features.

"Harley, you would tell me if something was wrong, right?" he asked softly, his gloved hands on her back, his arms protectively around her. A small smile played at the corner of her mouth as she moved her hand out of his hair to trace his lips.

"Richard John Grayson Wayne. You are one of the best men I have ever met," she said, ignoring his question. "I'm nowhere near good enough for you, but I will try to be someone you deserve."

"I love you just the way you are," Dick smiled a little, but it faded as he realized that she hadn't answered him. He looked at her, his uneasiness increasing. "Harley, what's going to happen? What aren't you telling-" he was interrupted as Batgirl's voice came over the communicators.

"Batman, Nightwing, Robin," she called.

Dick stared at Harley worriedly for a split second longer, before putting his mask back on and pressing the comm. "It's just me, Batgirl, Robin was… injured. Batman took him back to the Batcave, and we can assume that they're both out for the night. Go ahead."

"Red Robin, Catwoman, and I found the Joker's plan." She told him hurriedly before pausing. "This is going to be really bad."

"Spit it out, Batgirl," Nightwing snapped, his hand slipping into Harley's.

"Arkham," she whispered in horror. "He's breaking everyone out of Arkham."


	17. No Friends Up Here

_**It all ends- or begins- here.**_

_**The Joker has fled with his new Harley Quinn in tow- to Arkham. Robin's been gravely injured- and Batman and Robin are out for the count. Everything falls on Nightwing's shoulders, now. Harley sees in him more of his father than she'd like.**_

_**If they make it to Arkham in time, they may be able to stop the prison-break that the Joker has begun. If they don't- countless deadly and unstable inmates could be released into the Gotham streets- and oh what a distraction it could be.**_

Nightwing called the Batmobile, and the vehicle drove itself to their location. They rushed into the car and the roof slid shut above them as Nightwing flipped the switches and gripped the steering wheel, putting the car in gear. Harley's back hit the chair as the car flew into motion, speeding silently down the dark Gotham streets. She looked at Nightwing.

"Batgirl, tell me everything you know. Every detail."

"It's hard to follow," she said. "He had someone at Arkham who freed the prisoners while he distracted you guys. If things go according to this. We'll be too late."

"We'll need to get to Arkham. Everyone who's still available. Keep me posted on your position." Nightwing snapped, his hands tight on the steering wheel. His dark brow was knit behind his mask, his blue eyes cold and serious. She saw in his handsome features the same face of the man whom she'd fought so many times before. She'd seen him laugh, seen him cry, seen him curse her name, and seen him cry out in pain from wounds that she'd inflicted.

"We're going to Arkham now. What is the plan?" Batgirl asked.

"Joker would have made a beeline for there after he left. Stop him and Harley Quinn, at all costs short of murder," Nightwing ordered. Harley realized that with Batman out of commission, Nightwing was the next step down; he took his place as leader when the time arose. He took up the cape effortlessly and in full stride, and Harley was intimidated by it. She could easily see him as Batman in the future. He didn't look at her, his hand dropping to his side and after he shifted gears again, she grabbed his hand. Nightwing glanced at her. He thought about pulling his hand away, but he instead laced his fingers in hers, driving expertly with one hand. She examined his middle and ring finger, the glove striped blue down them.

"Dick-" she started, and he shook his head.

"Harley, I'm sorry, but we really need to focus. Tell me afterward, okay?" he glanced at her earnestly. She smiled worriedly and nodded as they stopped outside of Arkham's gates. Dick opened the top and they got out, meeting up with Catwoman, Batgirl, and Red Robin as they ran toward the hospital.

"What happened to Robin?" Batgirl asked, falling into step alongside Nightwing on his right. Harley's hand was still laced in his left as they ran.

"Joker shot him," he snapped, and Batgirl's eyes widened. "He'll be fine."

"Shit," Red Robin breathed. Nightwing glanced at him.

"Batman took him to the Batcave."

"Dick are you alright?" Batgirl asked, reaching for his hand as they all stopped at the base of the hospital wall. Nightwing pulled his hand away from her, his eyes narrowed coldly.

"I'm fine. It's just one more thing that I'm going to take out of the Joker's ass tonight." He said angrily, pulling an escrima stick out and firing the grappling hook to the roof. He wrapped an arm around Harley's waist, and she had to admit that she was a bit satisfied by the flash of jealousy on Batgirl's face before they rocketed up toward the roof. He'd chosen Harley over her. They all converged on the roof.

"What's the plan, Nightwing?" Red Robin asked.

"Yeah what _is_ the plan Nightwing?" Red Hood asked, walking up to join their group.

"Nice of you to show up," Nightwing muttered, glaring at him. Red Hood shrugged his shoulders.

"Nice to see you again, Harley," he said, ignoring Nightwing.

"Focus!" Nightwing snapped. "There are no alarms going off, so we can either assume it hasn't happened yet, or they hacked security. Red Robin, check security for compromise," he ordered.

As Red Robin knelt and pulled out his handheld computer, Poison Ivy rushed towards them. Nightwing and Batgirl readied for a fight, but Ivy held up her hands.

"Relax, I'll surrender. I'm on your team. Not a single prisoner out of their little cells. Minus the one you brought."

"Um… what?" Batgirl looked at her. "You're his confidant?"

"Yeah. Now get me the hell out of here-"

She was interrupted when the Joker burst onto the roof, his cackling ripping through the dark. His eyes seemed to skip right over Nightwing and zeroed in on Ivy glaring at him over Red Hood's shoulder. A fiendish grin split across his face and he charged forward, dragging Harley Quinn by her wrist. Only then did he seem to notice the heroes, and he looked at each one until his gaze fell on Catwoman. He snorted and burst into laughter. Harley Quinn cried out, trying to pry his grip off of her wrist. She looked terrified.

"Ohhhh… the cat and the bat, how _priceless_," Joker howled, slapping his knee. "You really do deserve each other, I just hope you're not pouring out all the pages of the playbook to him."

Nightwing glanced at Catwoman, her nose wrinkled in disgust. She didn't say a word to him, and the Joker shook his head. "Well the gang's all here! Except for Bats and the Bird, of course. Did he bleed out?" he asked casually. Nightwing stiffened angrily. "Well it looks like you're here and you've won," Joker sneered, looking directly at Ivy as he spoke to Nightwing. "I would've gotten away with it too, if it weren't for you meddling kids!" He shrieked with laughter. He'd really lost it. Harley Quinn whimpered in terror, still trying to free herself from him as he leveled menacing green eyes on them. "Now hand over Ivy, and we can part as friends for tonight."

"No," Nightwing and Red Hood said in unison, and Nightwing glanced at Red Hood confusedly. He held his ground, and they looked at the Joker.

"Come on funny man," Ivy said. "You shouldn't be surprised I sided with the jester over you."

He laughed madly again. "This isn't about sides anymore! I just want to see if you bleed green," he hissed, grinning. "And maybe I'll kill you both together, since you work together so well!" He giggled, trembling as he looked at Harley where she stood beside Nightwing. He took a step in front of her, shielding her with his shoulder. "Oh, bird boy you're so _blind_." Joker grinned darkly, staring at him. He shook his head and clicked his tongue. "You can't save everyone. And _she_ belongs to _me._"

"Harley can be anyone she wants to be. She has more willpower than you think." Nightwing snapped. Joker smiled a little, tilting his nose up. He cocked his head and looked directly at Harley, addressing only her.

"Tell me that _you _don't think about that night," he purred, his deep voice soft as velvet. His dark green eyes focused on her, and no one else. Nightwing froze in front of her, tilting his head a bit to look over his shoulder at her. She stared down at her feet and refused to make eye contact with anyone.

"Of course I do," she whispered, closing her eyes. She heard Nightwing exhale sharply, and a deep, menacing laugh arose from the Joker's lips. He grinned, utterly satisfied at her answer. Harley Quinn suddenly cried out behind him.

"Please, Nightwing, Batgirl, _help-_" she begged, and the Joker's eyes flared angrily. He turned around and, dropping a dagger from his coat sleeve, stabbed her. She screamed and Nightwing took a step forward as he shoved her to the ground.

"-had about _enough_ of your whining-" Joker muttered and as he turned around, he was tackled by Red Robin. He laughed as Red Robin launched a kick at his head, and Nightwing rushed to Harley Quinn's aid.

"Catwoman, watch out for Harley!" he shouted, skidding to his knees beside the costumed Harley Quinn. She choked, blood spilling from her lips. Nightwing held up her head and started to put pressure on the wound, but she grabbed his hand, her other hand tugging weakly at her hood. Blood spilled over his hand from the deep gash in the woman's chest. When he pulled her hood off for her, silky brown hair tumbled over his hand. Nightwing gasped, wiping some of the blood from Joan's lips.

"GCPD-" she choked weakly. "Undercover- I was- undercover…" she gasped. Nightwing put pressure on the wound, knowing it was no use, but he had to try. He could hear Red Robin fighting the Joker behind him, his laughter echoing in the night.

"Don't try to talk." Nightwing urged, looking down at her sadly. She closed her eyes, her whole body shuddering with the pain. He held her up a bit. "Joan."

Her eyes opened, the lids fluttering a bit. Nightwing took his mask off as she stared at him, the light already leaving her eyes. By the time he'd put it back on, she was gone.

Another officer, another friend; the Joker had murdered someone else that Nightwing had just begun to know. He laid her gently on the rooftop and stood, controlling his rage; the Joker caught Red Robin by the back of his cape and slammed his head against a chimney. Catwoman stepped toward Red Robin to help, but the Joker had left him on the ground where he'd dropped him and charged Nightwing. He was ready. As he stared down at Joan, as he thought about Damian and Harley; Nightwing turned quickly and caught the Joker's fist, pulling an escrima stick out of its holster and swinging it as hard as he could at the Joker's head. It caught him across the face and sent him sprawling on the rooftop. Nightwing quickly followed and dragged the Joker to his feet by his collar.

"You seem to have a fondness for my Harleys, Bird Boy," Joker laughed, spitting blood.

"I'm not going to let you get away with one more murder."

"Oh please, she was incompetent. It was a mercy killing," he hissed, and Nightwing threw him across the roof; the Joker slammed into a peak. Some of the shingles crumbled from the force.

"He doesn't know when to shut up," Ivy commented drily. Red Hood left her side to lean over the Joker; Batgirl stood a little ways off, ready to help in case the Joker tried anything.

"You have no friends up here," Red Hood told him harshly. A brisk laugh burst forth, not from the Joker.

"Not true," Harley taunted, depressing the button on the detonator in her hand hanging by her side. She braced her legs as the explosions started. Catwoman cried out, picking up Red Robin as best she could. Red Hood and Batgirl turned in horror, and Nightwing froze. Glass in windows exploded outward as entire walls crumbled from the tiny pill sized bombs.

"Harley, what-?" Joker cried, his eyes wide as he stared at her, a grin spreading across his lips.

"Surprise!" Harley called. "I thought I'd add some _fun_ to our plan," she told him, one corner of her mouth turning up in a wicked smile. Joker cackled in excitement as Nightwing turned to Harley in horror.

"No," he said in disbelief. The Joker shot to his feet and his dagger flashed, sinking into Nightwing's side as he grabbed the escrima stick off of his back. Joker sprinted toward Harley, laughing madly as he grabbed her hand and dove off the side of the building, firing the grappling hook from the end.

"Harley, no!" Ivy screamed. Red Hood grabbed onto her to hold her back. Harley tried to spin around to look at Nightwing, but they fell too fast for her to see. Nightwing screamed as he hit the roof, the dagger sinking deeper into his side. Explosions rattled the roof, threatening to collapse with them on top of it. Batgirl raced to Nightwing and hauled him to his feet, running to the edge of the building. She made sure Catwoman and Red Robin, and Ivy and Red Hood were all off of the roof before diving down herself, clinging to Nightwing with all her strength. The grappling hook jerked to break their fall; and suddenly pulled free from the crumbling rooftop. She barely had time to gasp before she and Nightwing hit the grass, hard, and tumbled away from the building. Batgirl groaned and rushed to Nightwing, dragging him to his feet again.

"What now!?" Catwoman shouted as they raced away from the hospital, inmates sprinting across the lawn toward freedom. Batgirl knew that Batman would have wanted them to stop the escapees, but she had more pressing matters. Nightwing was growing heavier in her arms as she dragged him along.

"We get back to the Batcave!" Batgirl cried, seeing the Batmobile up ahead. "Please, God, Dick don't give up on me now…" she whispered, glancing at his pale face. His eyes were closed.

Catwoman loaded Red Robin and Nightwing into the Batmobile, and then stepped back. "Go. I'll meet you there, just _go_. There isn't room for me."

Batgirl stared at her for a moment, and then slid into the driver's seat, tearing away.

"Oh God..." Nightwing choked, the pain in his side making his head spin. The dagger still blocked the blood flow. He closed his eyes, gasping, panic rising in his chest as he gripped the hilt.

"For God's sake, Dick, don't touch it!" Batgirl cried, pulling his hand away from his side. She gripped his hand tight, his fingers trembling.

Nightwing tried to twist around to see the chaos behind them, his side burning.

She was gone.


	18. Betrayal Never Goes Unpunished

_**She's gone.**_

_**Batman and Nightwing trusted Harley Quinn enough to break her out of Arkham, and for the barest of moments, Nightwing was truly happy. They had been reunited. Little did he know, it was a different reunion that Harley had in mind. She was a pillar on which Nightwing's plan rested, and when she ran- it collapsed.**_

_**Robin fights for his life over a near-fatal bullet wound, and Nightwing, too, is suffering; the loss of Harley, the failure to provide as a leader, and the Joker's dagger in his side all contributing to the pain. He's left with one question, yet again: Why?**_

Nightwing panted and cried out again, squeezing his eyes shut tight. The pain he could handle. The pain was awful, but it was nothing compared to his confusion. "Why'd she do it, Babs, why-" he gasped, tasting blood in his mouth. "She just left me she left with _him _after he murdered his Harley Quinn right-" Nightwing's eyes flew open in horror. "Oh God no… no! I left her there! Joan- I can't just leave her there! Go back!" he shouted, and the effort pressed against the dagger. He groaned in pain, his chest heaving.

"Dick are you insane!? I'm not going back! We have to get you help!" Batgirl shouted.

"She was my friend!" he screamed over her shouting.

"You need help! _Damn _you, Dick Grayson!" Batgirl cried angrily. Nightwing screamed in pain as she turned a corner and he slammed against the door. "Sorry, sorry! Not used to driving this thing!"

Nightwing couldn't think straight. He could feel his blood seeping around the dagger, could feel his blood wetting his lips as he closed his eyes again. She'd lied to him. Had she ever really been on their team? The thought of it made him more sick to his stomach than the steel in his side.

"Almost there," Batgirl assured him gently. "Stay with me, Dick, come on…"

"How could she do this to me?" he choked, his head spinning. His hand was still gripped tightly in Batgirl's as they pulled into the Batcave, and she dragged him out of the car.

"Alfred!" She screamed. "Get us some first aid, now! Batman!"

Red Hood yanked Poison Ivy to a stop.

"Jeez, so overprotective and we aren't even a couple," Ivy commented, yanking her wrist away from his gloved hand. It was chaos behind them. The alarms shrieked through the police sirens. The smoke from Arkham was like a hazy beacon. Red Hood wondered how many villains were going to escape and how many would get caught.

He ignored Ivy's indifference and stepped in closer to her to get in her face. "What the hell was that?" he demanded furiously. "You told me your girl could handle it!"

"Relax," she told him boredly. "I said we've got this." Red Hood bit back his retort and stared at her.

"What-" he started, only to spin around as someone came upon them.

"-Why hello Jason," Catwoman teased, sauntering up to them. "Nice of you to join our party."

"Mistah J?" Harley asked, glancing around the crumbling walls. "Where are we going?"

"Home, Harley, we're going _home_." He smiled happily, smoothing his curls back away from his forehead. His gloved hand was wrapped in her's as he tugged her along excitedly, practically skipping in his hand-stitched Italian leather shoes.

"You're excited," she told him with a small giggle.

"I'm allowed to be," he snapped, and then grinned over his shoulder at her. "The plan worked, and _you _executed it. I couldn't be happier." Catching sight of himself in a window as they passed, the Joker halted and examined his reflection. "Good God, I look a fright. We'll have to fix that, won't we?" he mumbled, rubbing at the running paints on his face, his disheveled and bloodied clothes, and his unruly green hair. Dismissing the issue, he started off once again.

"Babs- I can't _breathe_-" Harley jumped a little as Dick's voice gasped across the comm in her ear. He had been silent for a while, so she had forgotten it was there. She resisted the urge to reach up and touch the comm.

"We'll need to regroup- some loyal employees stayed behind, the ones that didn't get captured by Batman… but we need to rest for the night… swear when I get my hands on that little tree-hugger's neck I'm going to snap it like a rose stem…" Joker let out a wheezing laugh, pulling Harley around a corner.

"If she had done what you wanted, then I wouldn't have gotten to," Harley tried to placate him. Joker seemed to consider this for a moment, but then shook his head.

"It doesn't matter." He glanced over his shoulder at her. "Betrayal never goes unpunished." She blinked as Dick sounded in her comm again.

"Alfred- Al she's gone… she left with the Joker. Babs says she's never coming back," Nightwing gasped weakly, turning his head heavily to look at Batgirl leaning against the computer banks.

"I never said that," she sighed, turning her head to look at him. Nightwing shook his head slowly. "How's he doing, Al?"

"His blood loss is not as bad as it could have been, though the injury is severe. The pain should be gone now, thanks to the medication." Alfred said, stitching Nightwing's side. Nightwing pulled at the IV in his hand.

"Stop playing with that," Batgirl instructed, slapping his hand.

"It itches," he complained, his voice hoarse. He stared up at the ceiling of the cave and pointed at the stalactites that hung there. "Is Bruce ever worried that those will fall on him!?" he demanded, the action of raising his hand tugging at the IV again.

"Master Dick, _please_," Alfred snapped, pulling a stitch tight.

"Maybe we should just put him under," Barbara suggested, pulling her cowl off.

"Put me under what?" Nightwing asked, his brow knitting in the weak amount of concern he could muster.

"That would probably be best," Alfred sighed.

"Where's Tim!?" Nightwing demanded suddenly, sitting up.

"He's going to be okay, right?" Red Robin asked, walking over to Batman. He adjusted his sleeve back over his arm.

"I hope so," Batman muttered, watching the operating table carefully. Robin's pale face, half hidden by an oxygen mask, was the only thing they could see as doctors worked around him. Red Robin watched Batman, concerned for him. Robin had been too badly hurt and had lost too much blood; they'd had to take him to the hospital.

"Give me more pressure on the top of the wound," one doctor commanded a nurse.

"And where is the blood for the transfusion?" another demanded, bustling to the other side of the table. The light shone down harshly on Robin's small exposed torso. A nurse rolled a stand over with a blood bag hooked and the needle ready. Red Robin turned around, closing his eyes. He'd never been fond of the boy, but it was impossible to see him like that.

"Batman, perhaps we should wait outside," he whispered.

"No." Batman didn't turn away from Robin.

"There's nothing we can do," he said quietly. "Except wait. I can't watch this anymore."

"Then go," Batman said coolly. Red Robin's jaw tightened, and he looked down, feeling rejected. He walked out of the room quickly, his head still burning from the Joker's blows.

"Oh, Puddin it's wonderful," Harley cooed. The windows were all boarded up, but the ceiling was vaulted even though the chandelier had fallen. Joker grinned.

"Isn't it though?! There's space to work, plenty of room for other things, and a gorgeous bedroom you will love, Harley-Darling," he smiled proudly.

"That isn't enough," she said giggled. "What else will we fill it with?" She spun around, arms outstretched.

"I'll get you anything you want, Dear," he laughed. "You've earned it." Harley suddenly pouted.

"You didn't say that before. You hurt me and replaced me."

Joker sighed sadly. "I can't even _begin _to tell you how sorry I am for hurting you. I overreacted, and you did such a _lovely_ thing for me, too…" he shrugged and looked at her in a way he'd never looked before. Sheepishly? Guiltily? "I replaced you… but she meant nothing to me. She was a useless little toy to fill the costume- to fill the hole you'd left behind. I killed her because… she never did. _No one _can be Harley Quinn but _you, _Dear," he confessed, clasping his hands and looking up at her.

"Why should I believe you?" she demanded, crossing her arms.

"Would you have come back if you didn't?" Joker asked quietly, smiling at her. She jutted her lower lip out and turned her head to the side.

"Well you're the only one I have," she said, her hand wrapping around the comm concealed in her hand.

"You're all I have too, you know," Joker whispered sadly.

Red Robin dug in his utility belt for his last quarter, and then shoved it into the vending machine. He tapped the glass contemplatively, attempting to choose between a bag of muffins or a candy bar as a nurse stared in disbelief. He sighed, punched in the number, and waited for it to fall. He nodded a hello at the nurse and then pulled it out, walking back toward the operating room to wait for Batman. Red Robin tugged at the bag, trying to get it open with his gloves on; he stopped in the empty hallway to pull on it, and the bag suddenly popped open, spilling his muffins on the floor. He stared at them dejectedly.

"Red Robin!" Catwoman called, sliding over by him. "How is he?" she asked in a low hum of a voice.

"Don't step on my muffins," he warned her, bending down to pick them up one at a time. When he stood back up, he looked at her distractedly. She could see the blood running down his face through the eyes of his mask, and he probably had a concussion from the Joker's blow. "It looks like he'll be fine. Batman's in there if you want to join him… I couldn't handle the gore…" he mumbled, blowing on a muffin and trying to decide whether or not to just eat it.

"And how is _he_?" Catwoman asked. Red Robin glanced at the nurse taking a photo of them in the hallway, and then looked at her.

"Who, Nightwing?" he asked, shoving a muffin in his mouth.

"No," she said, patient with him. "Batman, sweetie."

"Cold and unreadable as ever. I need to go lie down somewhere. He probably will talk to you before he talks to me," Red Robin said seriously. "He opens up to you. He just told me to leave." He popped another muffin in his mouth and examined her uniform. "You wouldn't happen to have any quarters, right?"

"Sorry darling," she said, heading for the operating room, "but if you need the crown jewels, I'm your gal."

Batgirl didn't know how much more of this she wanted to take. Dick had started sobbing the moment she took his mask off, like it had been blocking his emotions until she'd removed it.

"How could I have been so stupid? I let this happen _again_… I failed her," he cried, trying to sit up for the fourth time, only to be pushed gently back down by Alfred again.

"You did not fail her," Barbara snapped. "She betrayed us."

"No!" Dick shouted, glaring at her. "She's sick and she needs help. She needs to be guided by someone good, and I _failed _her!" he closed his eyes tight, tears streaking his cheeks.

"She isn't a four year old. She made her decision," Barbara told him harshly.

"Whoa," Jason said, walking in and tossing his helmet aside, "chill, librarian from hell. Give the stabbed man a break."

"Welcome, Master Todd," Alfred said, cleaning up the mess from the first aid he'd administered to Dick.

"She didn't know what she was doing!" Dick yelled angrily, leaping up and this time succeeding. In his drugged haze, he bolted for the elevator of the Batcave. Jason caught him by the arm and Dick took a lethargic swing at him, struggling his hardest. "I have to help her! I'm the only one who can help her!" he screamed. Jason grabbed him around his middle and dragged him, fighting the whole way, back to the table.

"They gave you the good stuff didn't they?" he muttered as he forced Dick to sit down. Each breath he took shuddered past his lips, his tears dripping down his nose as he sat with his head hung. Barbara touched his shoulder.

"It's the Joker. It's the _damn _clown," Dick hissed, his jaw clenched. "Damian, Joan, Harley; it's all my fault. I have to help her, I have to-" he shot up from the table and Jason caught him again. This time, Dick managed a well placed blow to his jaw and sprinted for the elevator. Barbara quickly overtook him and injected him with a sedative. Fully aware of what she'd done, Dick struggled and screamed until he finally collapsed, leaning against her and falling limp in her arms. Barbara stroked his cheek, looking at his finally calm face sadly. She traced his lips with her finger.

"God, Dick. What has she done to you?" she whispered, holding him close.

Harley folded her legs beneath her and sat. "So what now?" she asked beaming.

"Now we go on to bigger and better things, Harley Puddin," Joker was getting excited, his face lighting up. "Phase two. Just me and you." He laughed.

"And what is it?" she asked.

"Oh, Harley, Harley, Harley," he teased, leaning down to look at her. "You have no idea the things I have planned, the things I will do." He spun away and started pacing. "Of course some things have changed now, but the _foundation_ remains the same don't you think?"

"I don't know what you're talking about Puddin," Harley told him exasperated. He stopped in his tracks to turn and look at her, a sly grin spreading across his face.

"Now that all of my good old friends are free to do as they please, I find I feel a little less important around here."

"I don't understand," Harley said warily.

"I think it's time to do away with some of my…_competition_ don't you think?" Harley refrained from gasping and kept her face mildly interested.

"Is this the plan you've been keeping to yourself?" Had he really been planning for so long to free all the inmates from Arkham just to kill them?

"Well you don't know who you can trust, do you Harley?" he asked her darkly before resuming is pacing of the room.

Harley turned away. "No you don't," she whispered quietly to herself.


	19. My Fault

_**Guilt.**_

_**It's all about who has it, and who doesn't. Dick's regret weighs on him more than his wounds- despite having no recollection of how he'd acted when he'd been given medication the night before, he knows he screwed up. He made a mistake and the entire team payed the price; two of them, nearly with their lives.**_

_**Old friends come to his aide, and Dick leans more heavily on his family than ever. He knows it's foolish to miss her. It hadn't been that long that they were together, but… he can't shake the feeling that Harley gave him. That she still gives him. He knows that he should let her go, but he's just not ready to give up yet.**_

"...was a total disaster, I don't even know how to fix it, Selina," Bruce said quietly in the hallway. Dick was hazily aware of the egyptian cotton sheets beneath him, the burning in his side; the dark curtains pulled over the windows of his bedroom at Wayne Manor. He breathed in slowly, trying to control the pain.

"We take a step back. Regroup. Let's focus on getting everyone _well _again, Sweetheart," Selina purred. Dick smiled a little. He'd never heard anyone but Selina call Bruce 'Sweetheart'. For her, it worked with him. "A Mr. Kent called this morning, asking if you wanted any help. I told him you were dealing with family matters and would call him back." She added.

"I will, thank you. I don't need any help, though…" Bruce trailed off quietly as he opened Dick's bedroom door. There was a flash of light from the hall before he closed it behind himself and Selina. "How is he, Alfred?" Bruce asked, and Dick jumped when Alfred spoke. He'd been sitting in the armchair in the opposite corner of the room the entire time.

"Resting, sir. He'll be alright," he said gently. Dick couldn't decide whether to pretend to be asleep, or acknowledge their presence.

"Good. A total disaster…" Bruce sighed again, putting his hands in his pockets. Selina wrapped a hand around his bicep, resting her chin comfortingly on his shoulder.

"I am keeping a weather eye on Master Dick," Alfred assured him. "After his outbursts last night, we had to restrain him, but his fever has gone down considerably and I believe he has returned to normal. Perhaps Master Damian requires your attention?"

_Restrain me?_ Dick thought confusedly, but then focused in on one thought. _Damian._

"How is he?" Dick asked, trying to sit up. He was jerked back down by the belts wrapped around his hands attached to the bed; one of them he recognized as his own, and the other Barbara's. _Yep. Restrain me. _He dropped back against the pillows, wincing in pain as Alfred came to undo the belts. Selina had jumped when he talked, but Dick could see the relief flash over Bruce's face.

"Damian is fine. He should wake up soon. Want to come see him?" Bruce asked.

"Bruce, he should stay in bed and rest!" Selina protested.

"He's fine," Bruce dismissed her, and helped Dick to his feet. His arm wrapped around his son, Bruce led him out into the hall. "Take your time, Dick," Bruce said encouragingly.

"I am, I am…" Dick muttered, one hand pressed against the wall as he stumbled down the hall. Bruce made sure he didn't trip, a hand on his chest. They reached Damian's bedroom door and heard a tremendous smash. Bruce threw the door open in alarm and Tim shot out, half covered in oatmeal and looking not at all amused. He stood away from the door, crossing his arms over his stomach.

"I'm not going back in there!" Tim cried, and Damian shouted from the bedroom.

"Good riddance!"

"What the hell happened?!" Bruce demanded. Dick was starting to feel lightheaded, and leaned a little heavier on Bruce's shoulder. He supported his weight.

"The little demon was none too happy that I saved his life," Tim snapped, wiping oatmeal out of his hair.

"What?" Dick asked confusedly.

"The little _monster _needed a blood transfusion last night, and we share a blood type," Tim clarified. "Now if you'll excuse me…" he stormed down the hall, brushing past Alfred as he came to clean up the smashed oatmeal bowl in Damian's room.

"Absolutely _revolting_," Damian shouted as they came into his bedroom. He was sitting up on his bed, looking pale and furious. "Of all people- I'd rather you had let me _die _than share any sort of- ugh!"

"I'd rather you didn't die, Damian," Bruce said patiently. Dick smiled a little.

"I can feel the mediocrity coursing in my veins," he snapped. Dick actually laughed.

"Don't be so dramatic," he told Damian. "Bruce, I've got to sit down I'm going to pass out…" he added, and Bruce hastily helped him sit on the sofa across from Damian's bed.

"I can be as dramatic as I want," Damian snapped, sticking his nose in the air. "This is your fault."

"Yeah, you're definitely feeling yourself," Dick muttered. "How is this my fault?"

"I got shot trying to save you, dumbass, and then _you _go and get yourself _stabbed_," Damian retorted irritably.

"Thank you for that, by the way." Dick said quietly, looking at the bandages around Damian's waist. The boy dismissed his gratitude.

"I was doing my job and saving your sorry ass," he snapped.

"All the same, I wish you hadn't. I'd rather it had been me."

"Don't be stupid, Richard," Damian glared at him furiously. "Don't even _think _something so stupid."

"It isn't your fault, Dick," Bruce rested a hand on his shoulder, and he looked down and closed his eyes.

_People keep saying that, but I still feel guilty. I'm still responsible. If I had been paying attention, if I had been faster, If I'd been better… _Dick winced in pain.

"Master Damian, you really should eat something," Alfred insisted, bringing in a fresh bowl of oatmeal. Titus trotted in behind Alfred and leapt up on the bed, curling up beside Damian.

"I can't," he snapped. "Last time I tried to eat, I threw up."

"Well drink something then. Keep yourself hydrated," Alfred nodded, placing the tray on his bedside table. Dick looked up at Bruce.

"Where's Babs?" he asked quietly.

"She's downstairs. Jason hasn't showed, and I don't expect him to. He called a lot of attention to himself and the Red Hood last night," Bruce replied. "Do you need help?"

Dick stood shakily and held up a hand. "No, I think I can manage. Stay here with Damian. He needs you."

"I do not," Damian protested, but he was silenced when Dick glared at him.

"You almost died. Now humor your father and shut _up_, Damian."

Selina held the door for him as Dick left the room. He made his way slowly down the hallway, the pain in his side nearly debilitating, and he had to stop and rest against the wall for a moment.

He couldn't get her laugh out of his head. Her maniacal grin. She'd laughed, blown the building, and then left with the Joker. Her laugh had haunted the nightmares he'd had last night. It was almost too painful to acknowledge, the fact that she'd betrayed him again. Not only betrayed him, but _abandoned _him. Left him to die on that rooftop where her muse had stabbed him. Dick didn't want to think about it anymore, but it was all he _could _think about. Damian had been shot, Dick was given the chance to lead- and he'd completely fucked it up. He'd failed. Tim got pounded by the Joker, Damian got shot, Harley left him, and dozens of prisoners were now free in Gotham.

_All because I trusted her._ He stopped on the grand staircase, leaning on the railing; hot tears welled in his eyes. _All my fault. All my stupid fault… Barbara was right. I love too easily._

He didn't see how Bruce would ever forgive him. Who knew how many supervillains were now terrorizing Gotham again? All Batman's hard work, destroyed and unraveled because of one blind love affair with a murderer.

And he hated himself for it, but he still couldn't bring himself to hate her. As much as he wanted to, as much as he wished he could in his anger and pain; Dick still loved Harley.

"Dick?" Barbara's voice broke through his confusion, and he looked up in surprise as he slipped. Barbara caught him, and he cried out, his hand flying to his side as the pain flared up again. She struggled to support his weight and sighed. "Come on, let's get you somewhere you can sit down," she said gently, hauling him to the parlor. Helping him lay down on a sofa, Barbara put a pillow under his head and draped a blanket over him.

"Thanks, Babs," he coughed a little, looking pale. She pushed his hair away from his damp forehead.

"I'm gonna go get you some food and painkillers," she sighed, walking away. Dick felt sick, and he pulled the blanket down to his waist. He felt hot and dizzy, and he closed his eyes against the light. "Here," Barbara said, returning. Dick wordlessly held out a hand and she dropped the pills into it, giving him a glass of water.

"Thanks," he mumbled again, taking the medicine. Barbara sat down in front of the couch on the floor, crossing her legs. Dick caught sight of a bruise on the side of her face. "What happened?!" he asked in alarm, reaching out to trace the bruise. She flinched away from his hand.

"You went insane last night," she snapped. "You hit me, nearly killed Alfred, and we had to restrain you."

Dick looked down guiltily, and said nothing in the silence.

"Do you not remember anything that happened last night?" she asked, gentler, pulling her knees to her chest and wrapping her arms around them. Dick shook his head. "Bruce brought Damian home. You kept trying to run off so we had to sedate you, but when you came to, you went nuts."

Dick still didn't respond. _Add that to the list of things I did utterly wrong last night,_ he thought miserably.

"You kept screaming about _her_, saying you had to save her, she was mentally sick and you were the only one that could help her, and other bullshit. You fought us for a really long time, and thats when we had to tie you down…" She traced the burns on his wrists from the belts. "...but you kept trying. You were delirious; the pain and the fever and the medication all combined to make you completely lose it. It was really scary, Dick," she whispered, pressing her lips to her knee. Dick bit his lip and closed his eyes.

"I'm sorry. Is that all I said?" he asked, not sure if he wanted to know more.

"When we tied you down, you cried for a while. You kept saying 'I didn't catch her. I promised, and I didn't catch her'." Barbara whispered. Dick's heart sank.

_I did promise,_ he thought, the pain of that broken promise worse than the knife wound in his side. _I told her I'd be there, and I wasn't. Failed. I failed._

"It was really hard to see you like that," Barbara said softly, closing her eyes. "Then you kept saying that it should have been you instead of Damian and stuff like that… Dick you can't blame yourself for everything that happened last night," she pressed, tracing the bullet scar on his shoulder. Dick closed his eyes.

"It was my fault. I should never have trusted her."

"No it wasn't. You fell in love. When is that a crime?" Barbara asked, smiling at him a little. Dick looked at her sadly.

"How can you not hate me?"

"I could never hate you, Robin," she smiled, stroking his cheek. He took her hand gently.

"I don't deserve someone like you." Dick sighed, and then dropped her hand. He wanted to completely forget about Harley. He never wanted to think about her again, never wanted to give those weeks a second thought, but he couldn't. He couldn't let go of her because he didn't _want _to. Nightwing hated her. Dick Grayson wanted to give her a second chance.

"How can you still miss her?" Barbara asked. She didn't sound angry. She seemed… genuinely curious. Dick shook his head slowly.

"I'm not sure," he said truthfully.

"I can't imagine how you must feel, Dick… but I'm here for you. I'll always be here, okay?"

"Okay," he agreed. "I don't really know what I feel. I'm upset and confused and angry and hurt… but I feel numb. Like I'm still in shock…" he bit his lip, trying to explain. "I don't really feel anything very strongly but guilt. I can't. If I did…" he trailed off again. _If I did feel everything I know I should be feeling, I'd kill myself,_ he thought, closing his eyes again. He jumped when Barbara wrapped her arms around him, bending over to give him a hug. Dick didn't quite realize just how much he'd needed it until her thin arms were around his neck. He wrapped his arms around her, clinging to her shirt as he buried his face in her red hair and stifled a sob.

"We all forgive you, Dick," she whispered hoarsely. She just wanted him to feel better and stop blaming himself. He pulled her close and she knelt beside him, stroking his hair at the nape of his neck. "You're a hero, just like the rest of us. We forgive you."

"Guys?" Tim asked suddenly, and Barbara looked up at him. Dick still held her hand tightly.

"What is it, Tim?" She blushed a bit, and then chided herself for blushing. She hadn't done anything wrong.

"Bruce is on his way down with Damian and Selina, just thought I'd warn you," he replied.

"Thanks, Tim," Dick said. _Why am I blushing?_

They heard a sudden thump before Bruce shouted Damian's name angrily, and then Selina walked into the parlor, followed by Bruce carrying Damian in his arms. The boy didn't look at all happy.

"What the hell was that?" Barbara asked, standing.

"He tried to walk like I told him not to, and he fell," Bruce said, looking pointedly at Damian as he set him gently in the high wing-back chair by the fireplace.

"If Grayson can walk, I can walk," Damian snapped.

"Actually, I nearly fell down the stairs. Babs had to catch me," Dick pointed out. Damian ignored him.

"Okay," Bruce sighed, looking around at his disgruntled boys. Barbara moved Dick's pillow and sat down, replacing his head gently in her lap. Damian and Dick were pale and nowhere near ready for action. Barbara looked ready, if not 100 percent, and Tim still seemed to be recovering from his concussion. Selina traced a hand along Bruce's broad shoulders as she walked past him to the windows, sending a chill down his spine. He ignored her. "Batgirl and I will be working to recover the nearly three dozen criminals and patients that escaped from Arkham last night. The rest of you will be here, recuperating, until further notice. Dick and Damian especially. Tim may join us when he is better."

Bruce paused, waiting for the inevitable tidal wave of protest that he would meet. A second of silence passed, and the three of them burst into shouts.

"I am more than capable of working wounded!" Damian shouted, and Dick agreed with him.

"We don't have the resources to deal with this problem divided!" Dick cried. "The Joker is still out there, along with countless others- the people of Gotham are in danger and you can't stop this alone, Bruce!"

"I'm not alone, I'll have Selina and Barbara-"

"-That still isn't enough!" Tim threw up his hands in exasperation. "I don't think Dick and Damian are well enough to be working, but I have a minor concussion! You've let _Dick _work with a concussion before!"

Bruce raised his eyebrows, putting his hands on his hips, and watched the three of them. When their shouting tapered down, he looked at them earnestly. "You seem to think that this is a democratic decision. It's _not_. What I say goes, and that is _only_-" he held up a hand to silence Damian "-because I will not stand to lose any one of you to the Joker. He nearly murdered you two last night, and if it hadn't been for Barbara and Tim, you would be dead." He glared at them seriously. "I want you to understand the _gravity _of what could have happened. Now I refuse to lose two of my sons because I was lenient with my instructions, so I want this to be _perfectly _clear. Damian, Dick; you two are not allowed to leave this house for at least three days. I don't want to hear any protest." He glared at them both. Dick nodded slowly.

"We can handle operation from the Batcave," he decided, daring Damian to say different. The boy nodded reluctantly in agreement. Dick looked up at Bruce. "Thank you."

"Thank you, Father," Damian acknowledged him calmly.

They all began to talk around the room, discussing strategies. Dick's medication was kicking in, and he could feel his eyelids getting heavier as he looked up at Barbara. She watched Bruce, listening attentively, and when she caught sight of Dick looking at her she smiled down at him.

"Go to sleep, Dick, you don't need to try to fight it." She whispered, stroking his soft, dark hair. He closed his eyes and focused on his breathing and her hand on his chest.

"Is he asleep?" Bruce said quietly. Barbara stroked Dick's cheek.

"I think so," she whispered.

"I don't know what we're going to do about Harley Quinn," Bruce sighed. Her name was like a knife in his back, piercing his heart, but Dick remained still.

"I don't want him anywhere near her," Barbara said sharply.

"Neither do I," Bruce agreed, "I think it's safe to assume that when we come across her, we do not hesitate to use force."

"Not a problem," Barbara whispered, tracing the scars on Dick's chest. He remained still, hiding his rising panic and guilt as he breathed softly and drifted to sleep.


	20. Pent Up Frustration

_**Harley Quinn has made her choice.**_

_**The Joker's plan is still in motion, thanks to her, and he knows now that he can't let her slip away. He can't have her questioning him any longer. Harley has chosen the Joker, but every choice has a clear right and wrong? Are they blurred? Or did she truly make the right decision?**_

_**Still hurting from a fresh stab wound and a bullet to the stomach, Dick and Damian are grounded. In Robin's place, Batgirl accompanies Batman out on patrol, and what they find could be a clue to the Joker's plan. But yet again, one thing keeps getting in the way. Harley Quinn is the key.**_

Harley groaned and rolled over as she slowly opened her eyes. Suddenly aware that there was someone else in the bed with her, Harley sat bolt upright in a panic before she realized there were no scars on the man's back. It was the Joker. After her breathing settled, she glanced around the room.

The bed had just been set in the middle of the room and, over the gold frame, Harley could see the antique dresser and vanity. A couch with silk pillows was placed precariously behind the door. Someone knocked.

Joker sat up dazedly and blinked a few times, staring at the door. His green curls stuck up from his high forehead in a tangled mess. The knock came again, and he yawned, tugging a deep violet robe off of the bedpost and pulling it on. He wiped a sleeve over his face, leaving streaks of white makeup on the fabric as he opened the door. "What is it?" he said a bit irritably, leaning against the door frame. Harley leaned over to try and see who it was. The man had taken his clown mask off and was twirling it in his hands.

"Boss," he started confidently. "You told us to come tell you when we have any news on an escapee from Arkham." The man glanced back and saw Harley. He smiled. Harley rolled her eyes as she pulled the Pima cotton covers closer around herself, bunching the blankets in her hands. Harley saw Joker's hand tighten on the door handle.

"Don't be too cocky, son," Joker growled. "Not before I've had my coffee. Spit it _out."_

"Man-Bat's been sighted down by the docks. They think he's _roosting_ by the storage units." The man leaned against the doorframe and shoved his hands in his pockets.

"Terrific," Joker spat, and then grinned. He slammed the door so fast that the man didn't have time to move, and it caught his arm. When he cried out, the Joker pulled the door open again, let him fall to the hallway floor, and then closed it gently as he turned to Harley. "Good morning. Or evening, as it seems. Sleep well?" He smiled. His green eyes shone brightly, and some of his pale face was exposed where he'd wiped the makeup with his sleeve. He almost seemed… human.

"You know I did Puddin," Harley giggled with a smile, running her fingers through her hair to try and keep the bed head out of her face.

"Of course," he said distractedly, his smile seemingly permanently plastered across his face. Joker walked to the dresser and sifted through the heaping pile of sparkling jewelry. "Good, I have a job for you."

"Oh?" she mused, stretching her arms above her head lazily. He shot her a handsome smile and then strolled to the window, twirling a gold pocket watch in his hands.

"Man-Bat could be useful to our plan. Go and invite him to tea, would you?" Joker giggled darkly, his silhouette outlined by the city lights of Gotham through the window.

"If that's what you want," Harley said, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed. Her bare feet rested on the cool floor. "But I feel like I'm just wasting my time. You'll just kill him anyway. Why are you waiting?"

"Flat out _murdering_ people is no fun! Where's the _flair_!? There has to be a production- a _show_. It's so much more fun that way, ask anyone. Ask Batman! The flash, the costumes, and the cool toys are all for show. For a _wow _factor," Joker cried, looking at her earnestly. "And if we kill them outright, the Bat will know what we're up to. We want to be discreet about the plan for a while. It's not a show if there's no mystery," he insisted.

"If you say so Puddin."

"Do you have a location yet?" Batman demanded, pressing his comm.

"I'm _trying_ Batman, Damian won't get out of the damn _chair_." Dick replied.

"I called dibs!" Damian snapped.

"God I'm going to kill Jason for teaching you _dibs_…"

"You encouraged it, Grayson."

"You little-"

"_Stop!_" Batman shouted. Batgirl skidded to a halt. "No not you!" he snapped at her, and then pressed his comm. "You two are going to have to work together! Come on!"

Dick and Damian mumbled apologies.

"Now do you know where Man-Bat is? That is the _only _escapee that we have a remote idea of a location on, but we have to move fast!" Batman snapped.

"No we don't know where he is," Dick cried. "We're working on it! The computer is- OW! Damian!"

"I didn't do it!" Damian shouted.

"Unless it is something about finding Man-Bat, I don't want to hear about it," Batman ordered them.

"He elbowed me right where I got stabbed!" Dick protested, and Batman heard the computer ping. "Oh! Got it. He's-"

"-he's in the storage area at the docks," Damian interrupted.

"Got it." Batman flipped the comm off before the argument he knew was coming. "Ready?" He turned to Batgirl.

"Try to keep up, old man," she grinned, waiting on his orders.

"Then let's go," he said dryly, running toward the north end of the roof and pulling out his grapple. Batgirl followed suit and did a flip off of the side of the building before firing her grappling hook. She let out a whoop as they swung to the next rooftop.

"Come on, Dark Knight, lighten up," she laughed, letting him lead the way. He didn't bother to respond as his boots hit the roof. Batgirl followed, easily keeping pace with Batman. "Hey. Everyone kept asking how… _Nightwing _and _Robin _were, but nobody asked _you_. Are you okay after everything that happened?" she asked.

"Of course," Batman muttered.

"Are you lying?" She cut right through his response, their capes whipping over the ledge of the building as they dove off of it. Batgirl charged the cape and it stiffened to glide down beside Batman where he'd landed silently on the pavement. He ran forward impatiently. "So you're lying," Batgirl pressed, running beside him. "It's okay to say that it scared you. Or hurt you, or just pissed you off. I just want you to know that I'm here to help."

"I am not lying, and I don't need help," he snapped.

"I know you don't," she sighed in resignation.

"Then stop asking."

"Yes, sir," Batgirl said sadly as they came to a stop on the docks. She wordlessly pointed to several squat, rusted buildings, their sides lined with storage units. Batman started toward them and she followed. He silently crept forward, flicking on his heat vision to find any signs of life. Batgirl did the same, scanning the area. "There," she whispered, pointing. There were two blurry heat signatures on the opposite side of the building closest to them, and they appeared to be standing outside an open unit. Batman flicked the heat vision off and wound his way through the units toward it.

"We have visual on two people," Batgirl pressed her comm, updating Dick and Damian at the Batcave. "Advancing."

"Careful," Dick advised.

Batgirl followed Batman toward the people by the unit.

"...so I need to know soon," a woman was saying. Batman stopped and Batgirl peered around the corner, her heart sinking, as Man-Bat replied.

"I need to think on this."

"Well, while you do that," Harley Quinn said, "I think I'll say hello to some old friends." She turned to face Batman and Batgirl. Batgirl's fists clenched, and without thinking, she charged. Batman caught her by the cape.

"I like the new look," he addressed Harley Q uinn. Batgirl could hear the controlled rage in his voice.

"Thanks! I felt like a change." Harley beamed as Man-Bat shuffled away. She had done away with her old jester costume. Her hood and white makeup were gone. Instead her blonde hair was pulled up into high pigtails and the makeup around her eyes was nearly as dark as her mask. Her white collar was gone, and the corset she was wearing left the scars on her shoulders and arms from her fall prominent. While the top of it and the straps were still black and red, the bottom of the corset, cinched closed with black straps over most of her abdomen, was only red. Her gloves and pants were still the contrasting black and scarlet, but a belt had been added with a wide buckle and a holster. Contrasting diamonds were imprinted above her thigh high boots. "Mistah J and I went shopping," she giggled.

"I noticed that. Let us help you, Harleen," Batman said calmly, and Batgirl glared at him. Bruce returned her glare, as if to say _Give her a chance._

_For Dick's sake,_ Batgirl thought, and stood at ease.

"Hmm," Harley pretended to think about it. "Sorry, but that's not part of the plan."

"Was Dick part of the plan?!" Batgirl demanded. The smile slid from Harley's face for a second before she plastered it back on.

"I think someone's a little jealous. When was the last time you got some?"

Batgirl felt Batman let go of her cape, and she launched herself at Harley. The memories of Dick screaming and crying in pain and heartbreak the night before fueled her rage. Her fist connected with Harley's chest and sent her sprawling on the ground. Before she could get to her feet, Batgirl was straddling Harley's waist and throwing furious punches at her face. She tried to dodge what she could, but the heavy gloves hurt like hell when they made contact.

"You- destroyed- him- you- _bitch_-!" Batgirl shouted with every blow.

"Batgirl!" Batman cried, yanking her off of Harley. She shoved him away.

"Get off of me! She deserves what she gave him! Don't worry, I'll only beat her within an inch of her life. She won't lose it. Go after Man-Bat!" Batgirl snapped. Batman tried to protest, but Harley Quinn tackled Batgirl angrily. The two of them tumbled to the ground as Batman rushed in the direction that Man-Bat had gone. The two women leapt to their feet.

Already anticipating it, Harley Quinn dodged when Batgirl threw the batarang. Rotating around as the blade flew past her shoulder, she pulled out her cork gun. Holding it outstretched in her left hand, her stance wide, she glared Batgirl down. "You just brought a knife to a gunfight," Harley Quinn taunted as Batgirl reached for another batarang.

"I know," Batgirl snapped, throwing the batarang and already starting to run at her. Harley relaxed her left hand and sunk into a crouch. Her left hand was releasing before the batarang hit the gun as she pulled back her right fist for momentum.

Batgirl blocked her right hook with her elbow, and Harley spun down under Batgirl's, grabbing her side. Batgirl turned, reaching for her, but she planted her hands on Batgirl's shoulders and vaulted over her. Harley ducked under her punch before bending back to handspring away from her leg sweep. Batgirl stepped into the movement, and Harley barely had time to deflect the next blow with her wrist. Batgirl's next blow Harley caught, wrapping her arm around Batgirl's. She pulled Batgirl in and tried to knee her in the stomach, but Batgirl pushed her knee aside, spinning Harley away so her arm was twisted behind her back as Batgirl switched the grip.

"Am I sensing some pent up frustration?" Harley teased, slightly out of breath.

"Shut up!" Batgirl threw her to the ground and stood above her, her shoulders practically shaking with anger. "You'll pay for what you've done," she threatened.

"I know, I know. I'll rot in hell and all that." Harley rolled her eyes. She turned over onto her stomach and rested on her elbows. "Too bad you weren't as much fun to play with," she mused.

"Shut up," Batgirl warned her again. "You've lost."

"Oh please," Harley scoffed. "You lost by the second move." Batgirl stopped for a moment, confused. Her eyes widened as she realized and looked down at her side. The blue light blinked on the small circle attached to her suit as the taser like shock coursed through her body. She collapsed to the ground, her eyes fluttering as she fell unconscious. Harley sat up and stared at her.

"I got some new toys," she explained, even though Batgirl couldn't hear her. Batman snatched Harley up by her shoulders and hauled her to her feet. She had to admit, his sudden materialization from the darkness had spooked her. "Sorry B-man, but aren't you already taken?" she mocked, her feet dangling above the ground.

"I'm not going to say 'I trusted you,' because I doubt that means a damn thing to you." He snapped gruffly. This close, she could see the pale blue of Batman's eyes. _Bruce's _eyes. "But _he _trusted you. I know he's naive and quick to fall in love, but he was _happy _with you. And I had to spend last night listening to him, in his delirium after being stabbed, scream and cry for _hours_ over you. You _broke him_, Harley. I hope you're happy with yourself. Whatever you and the Joker accomplished because of it, I hope it's well worth it. Because you stabbed the one man who could save you in the back. There's no getting out now. No getting away from the Joker. He was your ticket, and you yanked his heart out of his chest."

Harley looked down, away from him. "I know there is no getting out of this. I made my decision."

"You chose _wrong,_" Batman growled, forcing her to look at him. "Joker will kill you. And Dick will blame himself for the rest of his life because he 'didn't catch you'. His words. Your death will kill him."

Harley locked eyes with him. "Then I think we can both agree he needs to get over me."

Batman opened his mouth to respond, but tilted his head to the side as he listened to his comm.

"Father-" Damian panted into the comm. "He heard her and lost it again I tried to- he's still on the meds and I didn't want to hurt him- I _told _you not to give him the same medication it made him delirious-" Batman turned to look Harley in the eyes, his eyes darkened coldly.

"If he's having another episode, sedate him again, Robin."

"I think I should get out of here," Harley said quietly.

"Don't worry, I'll be taking you to prison," Batman growled.

"I won't be going anywhere." Batman cried out as he was hit on the back of the head. Harley was dropped to her feet as he collapsed, unconscious. "Thanks," she muttered.

"Don't mention it," Catwoman hissed. She bent down to move Batman's cape from where it had fallen across his face. She ran a gloved hand across his jaw. "And I mean it."

"Relax kitty cat," Harley sighed, walking away as Catwoman trailed after her in a huff. "We're all making sacrifices here."

Catwoman grabbed her arm. "Are they worth it?" Harley paused but wouldn't meet her eyes. She tore her arm away and kept walking.


	21. More Fatal Than Any Injury

_**Family can build or break you.**_

_**In this case, the former is true. Dick relies heavily on his brothers, but he still feels guilt. He sees himself as weak and broken, useless to the rest of the team. When seen through Damian or Tim's eyes, however, he's struggling. Suffering. But he's alive, and that's all that matters. **_

_**The Batman family is everything to each other, whether they're blood or not, whether they're criminals or not. Family sticks together, and brothers… brothers need each other now more than ever. Alfred watches over the household when they return, and everything is quiet again. **_

"Drake! Drake come quick I need help!" Damian cried, sprinting through the mansion toward his bedroom. Tim sat up from where he'd been reading in his window seat and leapt to the door, his book falling to the hardwood floor. He dove into the hall as Damian rounded the corner and Tim caught him as he tripped. Damian shoved him away. It was just the three of them in the mansion, save for Alfred; with Bruce on patrol he'd been tasked to watch Dick and Damian the first night that they recovered.

"Damian what happened?" Tim asked, grabbing the boy's shoulders. He looked pale and he was trying to hide his trembling body. "You shouldn't be running around like that with a fresh gunshot wound," Tim added, pulling up Damian's shirt to see if he was bleeding through his bandaging.

"I'm fine," he snapped, shoving Tim's hands away. "It's Richard. We were listening on the communicators when Father and Barbara came across Harley Quinn. Grayson went insane. I told Father not to give him that medication I _told _him that it made Richard crazy-"

"-Hey. Okay, lets go calm him down, okay?" Tim looked at him reassuringly, and Damian's nose wrinkled in disgust. Now that his initial shock had worn off, he lashed out in embarrassment at having come to Tim for help.

"Follow me," he said shortly, pulling his arms out of Tim's grasp. Tim followed him down to the Batcave, where Dick lay on the ground, tied up and unconscious.

"What the hell did you do to him!?" Tim cried, rushing over and untangling the line from around Dick's torso. Damian crossed his arms.

"I restrained him."

"Why is he unconscious?!" Tim demanded, making sure his pulse was regular as he rolled him onto his back.

"I had to sedate him." Damian sniffed, glaring at Tim. Tim pulled Dick's shirt up to check the bandages on his side, and caught sight of the singed fabric and burns on Dick's chest.

"You son of a- you _electrocuted _him!?" He gaped up at Damian, and the boy's nostrils flared in anger as his cheeks reddened.

"He tried to escape! Father doesn't exactly keep a neat work space and the taser gun was right next to the sedatives-"

"-With the drugs he's on you could have _killed _him, Damian!" Tim shouted, standing. Damian's hands balled into fists at his sides.

"I didn't, though, did I?!" he retorted. "I didn't want to do it, he caught me off guard!"

"Oh don't pretend like you didn't _enjoy _it, you little demon!" Tim snapped.

"I didn't-"

"-You probably picked up the taser on _purpose_, didn't you?!" Tim jeered angrily, stepping protectively in front of Dick. Damian glared at him hatefully.

"No I didn't, Drake! Don't-" Damian yelled, but Tim cut him off again.

"-Don't what, Damian, what-"

"-I love him just as much as you do!" Damian screamed, shoving Tim back. He tripped over Dick and fell back onto the floor of the cave, and Damian dropped down onto his stomach, pounding on Tim's chest. He punched him across the face and Tim tasted blood in his mouth. Trapping Damian's arm by his head, Tim threw him off of him and stood up, coughing. "Richard isn't _hers_, and he isn't _yours!_" Damian shouted angrily, rushing at Tim again. Tim ducked when Damian leapt into the air to kick him, and quickly did a backflip as Damian came around to sweep his legs. Tim blocked Damian's fist and, instead of fight him, pulled him in to his chest, wrapping his arms around him.

Damian hit Tim's back furiously and Tim held onto him, angry tears streaming down the boy's face. When he finally stopped fighting, Damian stifled a sob and hung limply in Tim's embrace, wrapping his wiry arms around his brother. "I hate her too, Damian," Tim whispered sadly. "And Dick is all of our brother. He's sometimes more of a father than Bruce is."

Damian was silent for a while. "I'm sorry, Drake," he said softly, and Tim released him. Damian sat on the ground by Dick and irritably rubbed the tears from his eyes. "Childish to cry, over something like this."

"You're allowed to, Damian." Tim said gently, dropping the subject at that. "Let's see if we can't get Dick upstairs."

"Master Damian, Master Tim, what is all the commotion about?" Alfred asked, entering the Batcave. Tim glanced at Damian, and then he looked at Alfred.

"Dick had another panic attack. Damian and I got into an argument, nothing to worry about, Al." He smiled tiredly. Alfred saw Dick and pursed his lips.

"Is there anything you need to make this situation easier young sirs?" Alfred asked calmly. Tim glanced at Damian again, and Dick groaned at their feet.

"He's really heavy," Damian said quietly.

"I keep a gurney for situations such as these." Alfred went to get it, leaving the two of them alone with Dick again. Tim watched him for a minute.

"Want to dump water over his head to see if he wakes up?"

"Don't be stupid, Drake," Damian snapped.

"Just a suggestion…" Tim sighed.

"If he wakes up, we have to deal with him."

Tim laughed a little and looked down, nodding. "I guess you're right." Alfred rolled the gurney over by Dick.

"Shall we," he asked unenthusiastically. Tim snorted and lifted Dick up with some effort, placing him gently on the gurney.

"It's kind of sad that you have a gurney," Tim admitted.

"I got it when Master Bruce first started his night time excursions." Alfred pushed the gurney toward the door. "How do you think he was taken care of?"

"I meant it's a little sad that you had to get one in the first place," Tim sighed. He'd always felt a little bad for Alfred.

"I was unable to stop any of you from living this lifestyle, so I became prepared. I'm not young enough to carry any of you anymore."

"Oh," Damian said quietly, looking down. They all got onto the elevator, a bit cramped with the gurney in the middle. Tim pressed the button.

"I have no complaints, though. I wouldn't have had the honor of watching any of you boys grow up," Alfred said quietly, looking down at Dick. Damian smiled a little and Tim patted Alfred's shoulder.

"You make hanging around here a lot more bearable," Tim smiled. Dick turned his head a little, prying his eyes open. He blinked up at Damian in the light.

"What the hell happened?" he asked hoarsely.

"You went crazy," Damian told him sourly.

"Are you feeling all right, Master Richard?" Alfred asked, concerned. Dick looked between the three of them. He was a bit pale, and he closed his eyes again, dropping his head back on the gurney.

"Just a little sick." _And incredibly humiliated,_ he thought. He didn't want to imagine what Damian and Tim thought of him. They must have thought he was weak; a complete emotional wreck. He hated that they'd had to come to his aid like that, and for something so immature. So trivial.

"Well at least Damian didn't kill you," Tim muttered.

"Yeah," Dick shook his head slowly, sitting up carefully as the elevator doors opened. He closed his eyes against the nausea. Damian marched away in a huff.

"He was really worried about you," Tim whispered. Dick steadied himself against Tim's shoulder.

"Thank you, Alfred. Sorry to have woken you," he said, the pain in his side flaring up again. His hand involuntarily shot to the wound and he winced, his teeth clenched.

"I don't go to bed until Master Bruce comes home," Alfred said as he took Dick's arm to help stay upright. "It tends to be a useless endeavor."

"Al, that's gotta be hell for you," Dick said in surprise.

"Just as long as he always comes home, I'll be fine."

Dick smiled a little as they helped him up to his bedroom. He sat on the bed, laying back against the pillows. "Tim, would you go down to the Batcave, check up on Babs and Bruce, and tell them we had an incident here? Bruce should understand, if they aren't home already."

"I told Batman as you were having your panic attack," Damian said coolly as he came into the room. "And I already tried to contact them while you were having your little makeup session in here. Neither one responded."

"Well, shit," Dick sighed, throwing the covers off of him. "That's our cue."

"No!" Damian shouted suddenly, glaring at him. "This is exactly how you freaked out the first time tonight, you kept trying to leave. Father gave us strict orders to _stay put._" Dick stared at Damian, stunned into silence.

"Then what the hell are we supposed to do?" Tim demanded. Damian looked at him coolly.

"I trust you to go find Father."

"Me? By myself? While you stay behind?" Tim glanced at Alfred and Dick. "Who are you and what have you done with Damian?"

"Can't you go alone, Drake? Or do you need your trusty team of sidekicks to back you up?" Damian sniffed, ignoring his last comment. "Don't push your luck. You're the only one who can go find Father without explicitly disobeying him, so I need you," he paused, and then added "not as much as you think. I could always do it myself, but then Father would be furious with _you _for letting me out of the house. Your choice."

"Okay, okay, fine, but I'm just glad I have witnesses for this moment," Tim said as he backed out of the room. Dick laid back deeper into the pillows, and Damian sat down on the foot of his bed. Dick stared at him for a moment.

"We have almost identical wounds. How in the hell can you be walking around? I can barely stand." He sighed, watching him.

"Youth, old man," Damian smiled smugly. "The young are resilient."

"I'm not that old," Dick muttered. Damian paused, looking distant.

"Then maybe it's everything else, for you. A broken heart can be more fatal than any injury," he said quietly. Dick sat up, staring at him.

"That's a good line, coming from a ten year old with no love life," he said quizzically, watching Damian. The boy looked down.

"It is Selina's."

Dick bit his lip and nodded slowly. "I'm sorry I've been so unstable. I can't tell you how embarrassing and… just humiliating it is. I'm acting like a bitch and hurting all of you guys," he smiled a little.

"Just as long as you are aware," Damian told him.

"Master Damian," Alfred scolded. Dick laughed.

"No, Al, it's ok. He's right." Dick turned to Alfred. "And I have a request- an _order_ for you, of the utmost importance, if you don't mind."

"How can I be of help young sir?"

"Take the night off." He smiled tiredly. "Damian and I should sleep and won't need anything else from you tonight, Tim should be home with Bruce any minute now. Thank you."

"Of course." Alfred bowed his head before leaving. Dick grabbed Damian's arm and tugged him across the bed.

"Come on."

"Where are we going?" Damian hissed in surprise.

"You're coming right here. Come on," Dick tugged him closer, pulling him under the covers.

"Why are you doing this to me again?" he demanded.

"Because you're my brother, and you won't sleep if you go back to your own room. You're as nocturnal as your father is now come on." Dick smiled, pushing Damian's head down on the pillows.

"You are so needy Richard," Damian whined.

"And you are so whiny, Damian." Dick smiled, closing his eyes. Damian pouted and turned his face away. Crickets chirped outside the open windows, and Dick listened in the hall to Bruce's footsteps. They came closer and the door cracked open. Bruce peered in to see Damian and Dick asleep in his bed, and Dick opened one eye to watch Bruce smile a little and close the door behind him. Tim looked at him confusedly in the hall and Bruce ran a hand through his hair.

"We'll let them sleep, for now. News can wait," he whispered. Tim cocked his head, staring at him in shock.

"Seriously, Damian hugs me and now you're _not _gonna wake them up for Batman business? Is this real life?" Tim waved a hand in front of his face.

Bruce rolled his eyes and then caught sight of Selina slipping into his bedroom over Tim's shoulder. "You ought to get some sleep, too, Tim."

"Why? I'm already dreaming," he joked as he beelined for his own room with a big yawn. Bruce smiled after him, glanced at Dick's closed door once more, and nodded. He walked down the hall to his bedroom and closed the door behind him. Selina straightened the covers on the bed and smiled at him.

"Are they asleep?" She asked quietly.

"I hope so. I saw Alfred on the way in, and he told me what happened." Bruce let out a big sigh. Selina blinked slowly, smiling at him.

"I'm proud of you, for how well you're handling them." She whispered. She didn't bother asking what had happened, she could only assume from what she'd heard before.

"I don't know what I'm doing," he admitted.

"I'd beg to differ. You raised Dick from boyhood, and he's a wonderful young man." Selina sat, patting the bed beside her. "All of these boys can more or less take care of themselves. But they need your guidance. You're good at that." Bruce sat beside her with a chuckle.

"It seems like you're better at this than me."

Selina smiled gently and kissed his cheek, running one hand over the symbol on his chest. "Then why don't we do something we're good at together?"


	22. A Trio of Robins

_**For a moment, there is bliss.**_

_**It was a calm night, followed by a calm morning. Dick is focused and ready to work; he wants to work. He doesn't want to be weak anymore. No one blames him but himself, however, and his family continues to keep an eye on him in the event of another panic attack. **_

_**Bruce, however, has more pressing matters to think of. Harley Quinn was working with someone last night. Little does he know, that someone stands beside him. Is there another traitorous siren in their midst? He has to focus on the Joker's plan, and with another disturbance, he may just get a clue.**_

_I can't move._

Dick tried to pry his arm out from under Damian where the boy was curled up against his side, but he didn't want to wake him. He tried to roll over, only to nearly land on Tim. "When did you crawl in here?!" Dick muttered, relaxing in between them. He sighed, the light blocked out by the curtains. Damian mumbled in his sleep and rubbed his nose against Dick's shirt. Tim snored loudly. Dick smiled and closed his eyes happily. He slowly began to tug his arm out from under Damian, lifting himself up on his elbow. He carefully stood up on the bed, trying to figure out how to get down, when he finally just jumped, doing a graceful flip and landing silently on the floor. Dick looked over his shoulder. Damian and Tim still slept soundly on the bed, and he smiled and stood, walking to the door.

Humming as he walked down the hallway, Dick's socked feet padded along the carpet. He'd slept a lot better than he'd thought he would. He tapped on Bruce's door and then pushed it open.

"Bruce?" he asked softly.

"-Dick-?!" Bruce cried, and a batarang hit the wall by his head. He ducked back out of the room and slammed the door behind him, hearing Selina laugh from the other side of the closed door.

"I'm sorry!" Dick shouted, feeling his cheeks flush. "You're just never in there in the mornings- what in the _hell _are you doing with your utility belt- screw it, I don't want to know!" he covered his ears and walked down the hallway again, going to find Alfred. He wandered down to the kitchen.

"Alfred? Are you down here?" Dick asked, running a hand through his hair.

"Over here Master Dick," Alfred called. Dick crossed to the pantry and poked his head around the corner.

"What's for breakfast?" He smiled. He looked much better than he had before, more color in his cheeks and the dark circles under his eyes had faded. The sleep had helped.

"There is a plate of fresh chocolate chip pancakes on the counter," Alfred told him as he emerged with more cooking supplies. Dick's grin broadened.

"You're perfect, Alfred. You're the _best._" He said as he took the entire plate with him to the kitchen table. "How did you sleep?"

"Just fine once everyone stopped wandering the halls." Alfred started mixing together more pancake batter. Dick groaned.

"It's impossible to get everyone here to settle down at the same time, sorry Al. At least I got Damian out of your hair." He smiled, shoving half a pancake in his mouth.

"And Master Tim as well I saw."

"Yeah it's gonna be…" Dick's smile faded. He looked up at Alfred. "Well, shit. When they wake up they'll kill each other-" He got up, and then hesitated. He pointed at the pancakes. "Don't take these. I'll be back for them-" Dick ran off up the stairs, running back toward his room to check on them. When he threw open the door, Damian turned to look and Tim threw Damian off of him. He tumbled off of the bed.

"Damian what the hell!?" Dick snapped. Tim coughed, rubbing his neck where Damian's hands had been around it. The boy's head popped up from the other side of the bed.

"What is _he _doing here?!" Damian demanded. Tim inhaled shakily and then coughed uncontrollably again.

"He's my brother too, Damian," Dick said calmly, and then looked at Tim. "You okay?"

"I'm okay."

"He was _hugging _me!" Damian snapped in disgust.

"I thought you were Dick!" Tim cried. "I was half asleep!"

"Guys," Dick pointed out. "We've got work to do. And chocolate chip pancakes are downstairs. Can you get over your problems?"

"The only way to get over my problem is to kill Drake," Damian muttered.

"Well if you kill him, Bruce and I will hate you forever, and you can pretend that wouldn't hurt you as _much _as you like, but it would. Now come on. Pancakes. Everyone make sure to pound on Bruce's door as we run past." Dick retorted, smiling as Tim hauled himself out of bed.

"Why?" Tim yawned as Damian elbowed his way past.

"To piss him off," Dick laughed. "But he'll be _really _pissed, so we should probably run." Damian wandered out into the hallway before the two of them and stopped outside his father's door. He pounded it with his little fist before bolting, leaving Dick and Tim standing there. They looked at each other in terror as Bruce shouted in anger from the other side of the door. They sprinted down the hall, slamming on the door one after each other and then sprinting down the hallway, their laughter trailing behind them as they launched into the open foyer. Tim leapt up onto the banister and slid down it, and Dick vaulted over the railing, flipping and then landing on the carpet beside Tim. The wound in his side pinching painfully. They heard Bruce's door slam open behind them.

"Shit-" Tim laughed, and they sprinted toward the kitchen after Damian. Dick and Tim stumbled into the kitchen, and Alfred raised an eyebrow at them. Silently he pointed to the pantry where Damian was hiding. Dick and Tim stumbled after him, crouching in the dark pantry.

"He's going to be so pissed…" Tim whispered, and Dick wrapped a hand around his mouth.

"Shh. Bats hear well, remember?" The two of them collapsed into suppressed giggles.

"Alfred!" Bruce yelled as he stormed into the kitchen.

"Good morning Master Wayne. I trust you slept well."

"As well as a cat in front of a fireplace," Tim muttered.

"_With _a cat's more like it," Dick snorted. The three of them trembled with laugher.

"Where are they?" Bruce demanded.

"I haven't the faintest idea what you mean," Alfred replied cooly.

"Where are the boys, Alfred?" he pressed angily.

"I'm afraid the only things in here are eggs," Alfred told him pouring some pancake batter into a skillet. "But if you are hungry, perhaps you would like to take some breakfast back for you and Miss Kyle."

Bruce hesitated. "That would be nice, Alfred. Thank you." He said, and they heard his footsteps coming toward the pantry. He flicked the lights on and saw the three of them crouching there.

"Oh look. The eggs hatched into a trio of Robins."

Dick stared at him for a moment before bursting into laughter. Tim did the same, and even Damian smiled, trying to hide his giggles.

"I'm sorry," Tim choked through his laughter.

"Uh huh," Bruce grunted, grabbing some bagels. "By the way, Alfred moved the cookies to the top shelf." He turned the light out and left. Dick looked at Damian, and then boosted him up without another word.

"So lovely to see you all like this," Alfred said happily, putting more pancakes on the already dangerously tall pile beside him. Bruce chuckled a little as he popped some bagels into the toaster. He glanced up as Selina walked in. A crash sounded from the pantry and Tim and Damian started shouting. Dick shoved them both out, picking up the cans that they'd pulled down, and followed them.

"Morning, Selina," Dick smiled, his cheeks flushed. She smiled and rested a hand on Bruce's.

"Morning, boys. Up to no good in the pantry?"

As if on cue, the cans toppled over from where they'd been precariously set on the shelves. Dick jumped.

"Master Damian, Master Tim; eat." Alfred smiled, putting the plate of pancakes on the table, where five place settings were set. Dick slid back into his chair, taking a bite of his pancakes.

"Orange juice, Pennyworth," Damian commanded Alfred as he slid into the spot beside Dick. Alfred happily got it for him as Selina pushed Bruce into a chair, helping Alfred with the drinks. Tim slid into the chair next to Damian distastefully.

"Mind if I join?" Barbara asked, peeking into the room.

"No!" Tim jumped up. "_Please_ take this spot!" He wandered to the other side of the table as Alfred got out another place setting. Barbara sat down beside Damian.

"What's up, kid?" she asked. Damian growled angrily and Dick closed his eyes for a moment at her words.

"That hurt," he muttered.

"What?" Barbara asked.

"Nothing," Dick smiled. "How did last night go?"

"Not well." She glanced at Bruce.

"What do you mean?" Dick asked slowly, looking between them. "If this is about me, I swear, I'm fine now. I've been-"

"-it's fine, Dick, and it's not about you." Barbara looked down.

"Man-Bat and Harley Quinn got away last night," Bruce said drily.

"Well what happened?" Damian looked at him incredulously. "It was only the two of them!"

"There were three," Bruce corrected with a sort of grimace.

"Who was the third?" Dick asked curiously.

"I don't know!" Bruce hit the table in frustration. Everyone went quiet. Selina reached out tentatively for Bruce's arm. He tried to pull it away, and she grabbed his hand anyway, standing and massaging his shoulders. Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose. No one dared speak. "Neither Batgirl or I saw who it was," he muttered, calming himself. Selina stroked his hair gently.

"What happened last night? Take us through it, maybe we can help," Dick urged. Bruce didn't say anything so Barbara chimed in.

"When we got there, Harley Quinn and Man-Bat were having some sort of meeting."

Dick nodded, taking a deep breath and pushing the knot in his stomach down. She was a distraction, and he was on a case. He didn't want to be weak anymore. "Okay."

"Man-Bat tried to escape while she talked to us," Barbara spat. Dick looked at her in surprise, mildly irritated at her attitude.

"Alright, so you fought and what, she got the upper hand? How did they escape?"

"I went after Man-Bat," Bruce explained, "and left Barbara to detain Harley." He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms. "I couldn't track him, and when I got back, Harley had… gotten the upper hand." Dick glanced at Barbara.

"So she _did _beat you."

"Shut up," Barbara snapped. "I won the fight. She fought dirty."

"Oh, I _know _she fights dirty," Dick replied, raising an eyebrow. Bruce continued.

"I got to Harley when Robin called in your..." Bruce trailed off looking at Dick. "I was going to take her in when someone surprised me. Whoever it was attacked from behind, so I couldn't see who it was."

"And they knocked you unconscious." Dick nodded slowly. Selina stroked the back of Bruce's head gently, a faraway look in her eyes.

"By the time either of us woke up, Harley and whoever it was were gone," he muttered.

"So what now?" Tim asked. "I can go on patrol with you and Barb tonight."

"But what are we looking for?" Barbara demanded.

"We need to know why she went to see Man-Bat," Bruce mused. "What does the Joker want with him?"

"More importantly, why would he let them all out in the first place?" Tim leaned forward, his elbows on the table. "If we answer that, we may be able to answer what he wants with them, too. Kill two birds with one-" Tim glanced at Damian and Dick. "-sorry."

"Being tactful was never one of your strengths was it Master Tim?" Alfred asked as he picked up his plate.

"Well I didn't mean to- fine. What do we _do, _Bruce?" Tim sighed.

"Do any of you answer your phones!" Jason yelled as he ran into the room. Bruce shot out of his chair as Tim cried out in surprise, and Alfred dropped the dishes he was holding.

"Master Todd! Lower your voice!" Alfred snapped.

"What is it, Jason, what's wrong?!" Bruce demanded, and they looked at him expectantly.

"There's no point in me telling you. Check the news. It's on all the channels."

They all rushed up to the living room, and Bruce turned the television on. Barbara sat down beside Dick on the sofa.

"... the scene is continuing to deteriorate at the Gotham Museum where Scarecrow is holding his hostages," a news reporter was saying. "The GCPD are on scene and trying to negotiate with the criminal, but Scarecrow is refusing to respond. His only goal seems to be chaos." The screen changed to a shot of the museum where a police barricade was set up. Dick glanced at Bruce.

"We handling this?"

"Yes we are," Bruce muttered as he stormed out of the room.


	23. I'm Not Afraid of Dying

_**Fear is an infectious condition.**_

_**The Joker had plans for Scarecrow, but his sudden seizure of the museum has forced the Joker to act quickly. He sends Harley in to do her job, and recruit Scarecrow into the plan. **_

_**Meanwhile, Batman and the Batcave know about her communicator. It's still online, and she can hear every word they say over the system. Instead of be rid of it, however, Batman believes it can be an advantage.**_

Harley lounged on the couch as she closed her eyes. She could still hear the news reports in the other room but didn't care. Joker would call when he needed her. Her gun dug into her hip so she rolled her position a little and glanced at the door. There was shouting at one of the screens. Harley rolled her eyes.

"Harley!" Joker shouted abruptly from another room. Harley kicked her legs out and hopped to her feet.

Pulling the door open, "Yes Puddin?" she chirped.

"Get _in _here, Harley," he snapped, closing his eyes and composing himself. Joker pointed at the television screen. "Do you know what is happening!?"

"The Scarecrow is up to no good?" she asked, coming up to stand by him and resting her hand on his shoulder. His hand twitched as he tried to control his anger.

"Yes! He's out there calling attention to himself and I can't have that. Do you know _why!?"_ Joker hissed, staring at the TV. Harley breathed in deeply through her nose.

"Why?"

To her surprise, Joker inhaled, controlled his rage, and then smiled. He rubbed his temples. "Because he's forcing my hand. By throwing himself out there he's taken charge. I don't _like _not being in charge, Harley," he hissed. "He's your next- _our _next recruit." Harley glanced at the television screens.

"This won't exactly be a private meeting," she told him.

"Be as discreet as possible. Take out the news vans, if you want. Just try not to be seen, but I won't hold it against you if you are." He put his hands on her shoulders and smiled reassuringly. "Batman will no doubt show up. See if you can't bring a bird home for dinner, eh?" He laughed wildly, grinning. Harley glanced away as the crease formed between her eyes. She turned back to face him with a smile.

"Whatever you say, Puddin," she assured him.

"Good. Make me proud, Harley Darling," he smiled, giving her a quick kiss before turning back to the television. Harley puckered her lips as she left the room. She pushed aside a goon that walked into her. Ignoring him, she continued over to the basement stairs. She scampered down the rickety wooden steps to the dim concrete basement. The strange tunnel that had made this mansion so convenient was too dark to see in. Harley grabbed a flashlight from the floor and shone it in.

It didn't take long to reach the sewers, but the scent reached her first. Harley pinched her nose and was breathing shallowly through her mouth as she shone her light through the sewer tunnel. A rat scampered around her ankles as her footsteps echoed through the tunnel.

Harley realized that this trip was going to be _too_ good for thinking. Her eyes focused on the thin beam of light the flashlight made.

"_But he trusted you. I know he's naive and quick to fall in love, but he was happy with you. And I had to spend last night listening to him, in his delirium after being stabbed, scream and cry for hours over you. You broke him, Harley._" Harley tripped on a lip of overlapping concrete and stumbled for a few steps.

_Damn it Dick_, Harley thought to herself as she stormed angrily forward. _Why couldn't you just hate me?_ She sighed in frustration, ignoring the stench. Harley knew she would drive herself crazy if she was left alone with her thoughts, so she pulled out the comm she always carried with her and hoped.

"...hacked the police frequency. They're keeping the media back at a safe distance," Damian's familiar voice was relaying. "They still aren't planning on moving in any time soon."

"Good. Red Robin, Batgirl, and I will split up to the separate entrances when we get there," Bruce updated him. Harley broke into a brisk run; she didn't want Batman getting there before her. "The two of you keep us updated on what the GCPD is planning."

"Of course," Dick muttered.

Harley flicked off the comm. _There's nothing to hear for now_, she explained her actions to herself. She slid to a stop at the base of a ladder. Quickly running through her trip in her mind, she confirmed she was at the right place and pulled herself hand over hand to the top. Putting her hands over her head, Harley popped the manhole cover out of place. She gulped in the fresh air as she pulled her body up out of the sewers.

Her breath caught when she saw the backs of the police officers. They were a good five hundred yards away to block off the alley to the back of the museum. Hopping up to her feet, Harley scurried over to the back door. It was still sealed and the alarm was armed.

"Shit," she muttered to herself, glancing back at the officers. Harley flicked the comm back on. _Looks like I'm busting in_.

"Bruce…" Damian said unsurely. He looked at Dick as he flicked the mic up away from his mouth and pointed at the screen, where another signal had come online. "It's back."

Dick looked at Damian and mouthed '_Quinn_'.

Damian shrugged and pulled the mic back down in front of his lips. "Batman, I'm sending you the coordinates of another possible crime in progress on the computer. It's close by. Maybe you want to send Red Robin off of this mission to check this out, it may be something."

There was a pause as Bruce deliberated the information that they had sent him. Whether they acted on it or not was his decision.

"That's something all right."

"Do we send someone to check it out, or would you like _us _to shut it down?" Dick asked.

"No, stay in the Batcave. I don't want you in the field. I'll send Red Robin to check it out. In the meantime, Batgirl and I have Scarecrow to be dealing with." Batman muted his comm and when Batgirl did the same, he looked at her. "Quinn still has the communicator that we gave her. We don't want her to know that we're onto her. Let's use this to our advantage, shall we?"

Batgirl nodded and they unmuted their comms.

"Okay, Batman. What now?" Damian asked.

"Red Hood has vanished on us again. Batgirl and I are going to hang back and keep an eye on Crane. Tell me the _instant _that Red Robin has neutralized the threat, and we'll wait for him to join us before heading in to take Scarecrow down." Batman responded. Dick nodded and looked at Damian.

_Tell me the moment when that comm goes back offline._

"Yes Sir," they both answered.

"Red Robin. Sending you the coordinates now," Batman said. "Break off, look into this lead, and then come back to rendezvous at the museum with us. _Do not _engage once here. No one take any action until we can form a plan, do you understand?" he commanded.

Red Robin raced across the rooftop toward the back of the museum. He knew that Bruce and Barbara hated to work in the day, but he'd never really minded it; he actually kind of enjoyed being able to see clearly where he was going. He skidded to a halt at the edge of the rooftop as the museum's alarms exploded to life. Glancing down, Red Robin saw Harley Quinn disappear through the museum's back door. He quickly dove down to the door and pulled out his minicomputer, flying easily through the Museum's security and disabling the alarms.

"I've found the other crime in progress." He pressed his comm. "It's a block down from the museum, a few thugs. Neutralize it?" he added, to throw off any suspicion that Harley Quinn may have as she listened to their conversation.

"No," Batman responded. "Observe and report. If things get ugly, then engage, but just _get close_ and _listen_. Find out what they're up to."

He slipped silently through the door, tailing Harley Quinn. He kept a deadly silent pace a ways back from her. As she wound her way through brightly lit exhibits toward the main atrium where Scarecrow was holding his hostages, Red Robin knew that he'd be spotted if she turned, but Harley Quinn seemed in a hurry to get to her destination. She suddenly stopped before the doors to step out onto the balcony, and Red Robin slipped behind a display case. She pressed her ear gently.

"She's offline!" Damian cried into the comms, and Harley Quinn stepped out onto the balcony.

"She's probably coming after the Scarecrow the same way she did Man-Bat last night." Batman said.

"The police aren't advancing. And they most likely won't, not while Crane still has hostages." Damian chimed in.

"Red Robin. Batgirl and I are going to stay back, while you tail Quinn. Let her believe she's alone, got it? Do not engage. Let's try to find out what she's up to." Batman said hurriedly. "Dick, switch us all to a secure channel, but leave this one live. We don't want her knowing that we are aware of her. Everyone confirm the new channel, and then return to this one when Batcave tells us that she's back online."

Red Robin confirmed, slipping through the doors and crouching behind the stone railing of the balcony lining the outer wall of the museum. From the balcony branched off doors leading to different exhibits. Red Robin pulled out a recording device and pressed it onto the stone railing. He flicked it on and it blinked red a few times before going dark again.

"His recording device is online and ready," Damian said.

"Patching it through to comms on a secure channel now," Dick added. "We can now hear everything that the Red Robin hears."

"It's a good thing my friend was able to turn off the alarms that you so _kindly _triggered," Scarecrow was saying to Harley Quinn.

"It wouldn't have happened if you had someone there to meet me," Harley shrugged, indifferent.

"Perhaps next time you will let me know you're coming, _Dr. Quinzel_." Scarecrow stood back on his heels and examined her smugly, one hand on his hip. From the other hand dangled an old-fashioned garden pesticide sprayer.

"Well, _Dr. Crane_, I couldn't have known you would decided to have such," Harley glanced around at the hostages scattered around the room staring at her and Scarecrow with eyes wide and pupils dilated, "such fun." There was a faint scent of his infamous vapors, but she wasn't worried.

Red Robin slipped a breathing mask over his mouth and nose and stood a bit, slipping silently behind the cover of the railing along the balcony. He stopped and knelt just above Harley Quinn and Scarecrow.

"I wasn't aware that I had to have a doctor's note in order to play, coach." He quipped, sweeping his straw hat off of his head and bowing deeply to her. He straightened and ran a finger along her jaw. Harley didn't move, and she could tell that Crane was smiling behind his ominously torn and stitched burlap mask. "Unlike the rest of the psychopaths in this town, the Joker doesn't _scare_ me. He's just that- a _clown._ I'm not afraid. I'm not afraid of dying." He hissed, walking past her. "Now to what do I owe the pleasure, Jester? I'm a little offended that the Joker didn't come here himself." Scarecrow casually sprayed a man in the face with his fear toxin.

"He's much too busy to play around with the likes of you," Harley said in a bored tone, tugging at her glove. "I mean we both know there is no good way today ends for you." She beamed at him with bared teeth. "So I'm here with a new option."

"Maybe I don't want it to end well," he muttered. "What's your proposition, Quinzel?"

"It involves all of us _not_ going back to Arkham," Harley said as she paced around him, stepping over a man's leg, "or since that is probably still out of commission, jail." She paused by his right shoulder. "What do you say?"

Scarecrow cocked his head a bit to look at her without turning. "I say I don't trust the Joker. I'll need details."

"Fine, but..." Harley trialed of with a hiss. She realized it was too quiet. Something, _anything_, should have happened by now. Her hand twitched with the urge turn her comm on, but she decided against it. Something felt wrong. "Should we go somewhere more private to chat?" she asked, glancing around.

"An empty museum full of vegetables and dead relics isn't private enough for you?" He gestured around at the drooling and trembling hostages. Red Robin narrowed his eyes on the balcony. Harley continued to look around but didn't turn to spot him.

"Who did you say turned off the alarm again?" she asked slowly.

"I was being sarcastic. I thought you did," he confessed. "What are you so afraid of, Dr.? Bat got your tongue?" Scarecrow grinned. Harley processed this new information.

"No, I just hope you are more welcoming because I have a feeling we're about to have more guests," she spun around saying this, and she finally caught sight of Red Robin. "And look. They've already started to arrive."

Red Robin stood, glaring down at her. He didn't speak.

"Red Robin's been spotted," Dick informed the rest of them over the comms.

"Sorry to bust up the reunion," Red Robin smiled. "You can continue it in Arkham when we get there."

"Weren't you listening to what I just told the good doctor?" Harley teased. "We aren't going back to Arkham."

"Not if I have anything to say about it. Now, _Lee_, the way I see it, we can do this one of two ways. One, you come with me. I'm the nice Robin, the one who won't kick your teeth out. Or _two_… Batgirl still has a bone to pick with you." He smiled. She ignored his direct taunt and kept smiling as she tried to work out an escape. They needed to get going before Batman arrived.

"Oh really? Does she want to lose again?"

"I guarantee she'll get here before Batman, and I won't interfere like he did. I may even help her," Red Robin called from the balcony. _Come on, Bruce…_ he thought nervously.

"Who say's I'm sticking around that long?" She grabbed the collar of a limp man, hauling his shoulders up. Hooking her thumb through one of his belt loops, she tossed him out a window. He rolled toward the police barricade, limbs splayed.

"What the hell!?" Batgirl cried into the comm. Red Robin blinked in surprise and moved to jump over the balcony.

"Hold your ground!" Batman commanded. He halted as the policemen outside the museum shouted amongst themselves.

"-move in, move in!"

"Shucks. Looks like I drew attention to myself." Harley shrugged, a smile playing at her lips. Red Robin stared at her incredulously.

"Batman-" he stuttered.

"We're almost there! Do not engage!"

"She'll escape!" Red Robin cried, launching over the balcony. He landed on the marble floor, his cape fluttering down around his feet as he brandished his bo staff.

"Yes I will." She turned to Scarecrow and grabbed the sprayer. She set it so a constant mist was spraying as she grabbed Scarecrow by the elbow and pulled him after her. The police rushed in through the broken window, straining to see through their masks and the gas. Red Robin launched after her, catching Scarecrow by the collar and yanking him back. Harley let Scarecrow go so that Red Robin was forced to brace himself from falling, leaving him exposed to attack. Harley used his vulnerability to punch him twice in the stomach in quick succession, knocking the wind out of him.

She stepped back. "I don't want to hurt you, but I'm taking him with me," she warned Red Robin.

"You didn't have any qualms about hurting Nightwing," Red Robin objected, throwing Scarecrow behind him and spinning his staff. He swept Harley's legs out from under her, and then cried out as Scarecrow tackled him from behind, slamming his face into the floor. They skidded a few feet and hit a marble column. Scarecrow tore Red Robin's gas mask off and sprayed him in the face. Harley jumped to her feet as Red Robin screamed. Harley stared down at him as Scarecrow ran toward her. She turned to follow him out.

"No!" Batman bellowed angrily as he rounded the corner into the hall. He met Harley's eyes, and then they sprinted down the hall. The last thing Harley heard was Tim's screams as he saw Batman rush towards him, the fear toxins clouding his vision.


	24. If You're The Only One

_**It's time.**_

_**They need to see each other, face to face. Harley has information, she may be their only key to stopping the Joker's plans before he kills again, and they need the information fast. The fastest way to her is through Dick. **_

_**But can he handle seeing her? How she's changed, so cold and unrecognizable, yet the same woman that he fell in love with at the same time? He has to act quickly, but the means to the answers is a road that he and Batman have traveled before, and a road he might not want to venture down. **_

The tires of the Batmobile screeched in the tunnel as Batman pulled into the Batcave. Dick rose from his chair in front of the computer banks, and Damian turned in his seat. Batgirl leapt out of the car, pulling her cowl down.

"Dick, the fear toxin antidote! _Now!_" she commanded, quickly helping Batman carry an unconscious Tim to the medical table. Dick handed the antidote to Batman, and he plunged the needle into Tim's neck. Damian winced.

"What the hell happened?" Dick asked. Barbara looked worriedly down at Tim.

"Scarecrow dosed him, and they got away."

"They got _away_!?" Damian demanded, looking up at Batman. "Drake isn't worth letting them both get away!"

"Enough," Batman growled. He gave them no orders, told them to check nothing; he just focused on Tim.

"Damian, check on Harley's comm to see if it's come back online. Babs, get the police scanner and check on the situation at the museum." Dick commanded, loosening Tim's Red Robin costume around the neck and gently tugging the hood off.

"You aren't in charge of me!" Damian objected.

"_Now_." Dick glared him down, until he finally turned to go to the computer.

"It's not up, but I'll keep the line open," Damian said deadpan.

"So far nothing from the police," Baraba said, returning to Dick's side.

"See if you can get ahold of Jason," Dick instructed, checking Tim's pulse. It was growing calmer. When Barbara left again, Dick put a hand on Bruce's shoulder. He pushed him down into the chair behind him. "You okay?"

"Yes," Bruce said tersely, his jaw clenched. Dick's brow furrowed in worry and he gently pulled Bruce's Batman cowl off for him.

"You should drink something," he suggested, pressing a glass of water from the tray that Alfred had left for them into Bruce's hand.

"I don't need to drink something," Bruce snapped, slamming the glass onto the table. "I need to know what they're up to."

"Bruce, there's nothing we can do about it now!" Dick said angrily, crossing his arms.

"They obviously released and are gathering these inmates for some reason, so what are they doing?!" Batman stood up, his chair falling backwards.

"Maybe we should take a break on the case," Dick said, feeling lightheaded. Damian stood by Tim unconscious on the table, his lips pressed together tightly. He looked pale. "Stay in and do some background work."

"Work on _what_?" Bruce demanded. "They best option is to get back out there and find someone who knows."

"Who will be out? It's broad daylight!" Dick cried, throwing his hands up in exasperation.

"I can't get ahold of Jason," Barbara said before noticing the tension between the two. "What's going on?"

"Nothing," Bruce snapped angrily.

"Please talk to me!" Dick said desperately. "What is bothering you, Bruce?!"

"What's bothering me," Bruce spat the words, "is how many of my son's I have to see hurt because of this."

"Bruce, we're heroes too. We can handle ourselves," Dick commented gently. "I know you think that you have to protect us all, but you can't. You can't take that big a burden onto just your shoulders."

"I'm supposed to protect you, instead I keep sending you out to-"

"-Bruce!" Dick interrupted, their voices rising nearly to shouting. "You aren't sending us anywhere! Do you think that Tim and Jason and I wouldn't be out there even if you didn't _tell _us to be! We're responsible for ourselves! Stop blaming yourself!"

"Why am I not surprised to find an argument going on down here?" Selina said, stepping out of the elevator, stroking Damian's cat in her arms.

"Because its a rare occasion for them _not _to be fighting," Damian muttered. "Give me Alfred, right now," he snapped, taking his cat away from her and walking off into the Batcave. Dick and Bruce both pinched the bridge of their noses at the same time.

"Sorry, Selina," Bruce muttered. running a hand through his hair.

"Could you please tell Bruce that he needs to get some rest, and get off of our backs? He _listens _to you," Dick sighed, looking at her.

"I believe the term you're looking for is '_whipped_'," Damian said quietly, once he was out of Bruce's reach.

"And how is your phone relationship with your girlfriend going?" Dick muttered, shooting a glare at Damian.

"Please," Damian scoffed. "You sure you would like to play the relationship game with me, Grayson?"

Dick's face fell.

Bruce cleared his throat. "Selina, do you know where Jason went?"

"He left shortly after you did, going who knows where." She brushed her fingers along the cape at his shoulders.

"Selina, he needs rest. Please." Dick looked at her. Selina looked up at Bruce.

"Are you tired?" She asked sternly.

"Of course not," Bruce scoffed.

"Bruce," she snapped harshly. "When was the last time you slept?"

"You were there. Shouldn't you know?" Damian asked drily.

Selina ignored him. She grabbed Bruce's arm and walked towards the elevator, dragging him along. "Come on. Everyone. Time for bed."

"It's day," Damian pointed out. Dick picked Tim up gently.

"Bats are nocturnal," Selina smiled, stroking Bruce arm.

"Keep arguing with her. See what happens," Dick said as he walked towards the elevator. Damian followed, his cat snuggled in his arms.

Dick had to admit, the nap had really helped. He felt a lot more energetic, and he was ready to work. As he stood by the fireplace in the parlor, the crackling flames casting the only light in the room, he stared up at the painting of Thomas and Martha Wayne. Bruce stood between them, looking like Damian in the shadow cast from the fireplace.

"Spooky, isn't it? How much I look like Father." Damian said from the window seat where he looked out at the moonlit lawn. Dick jumped.

"I didn't hear you come in," he answered, his hands in his pockets.

"Drake is up," was Damian's reply. Moments later, Tim walked in the door.

"How long was I out?" he asked, rubbing the back of his neck.

"All day. The sun's just set, actually." Dick replied. Damian ignored them both, staring out the window. Barbara came into the room, flipping through the pages of a book, and when she looked up, she smiled.

"Oh, you're alive. Welcome back," she ruffled Tim's hair and sat down on the sofa, tucking her legs beneath her.

"Where's Bruce?" Tim asked, looking between the three of them.

"Him and Selina are still upstairs," Barbara said nonchalantly.

"Good. Let him relax as long as he can," Dick replied, sitting down beside Barbara. Bruce entered the room, and Dick bit his lip. "I guess I spoke too soon."

"The comm went live," Bruce said, getting to the point.

"What the _hell _were you doing down in the Batcave?" Dick demanded in exasperation.

"That doesn't matter."

"Where did it go live?" Barbara asked.

"It's stationary in the warehouse district," Bruce said. Dick looked down, pained, as he bit his lip. Barbara put a hand on his knee comfortingly.

"I'll take care of this," Damian demanded.

"No!" Dick snapped, glaring at him.

"We need her to talk, not end up in a hospital," Tim told Damian. Damian shot him a glare.

"If you'd like to join her there, I'd happily oblige," he snapped.

"No one is hurting anyone," Bruce cut over Tim's objection. "And Tim is right, we need her to talk." He sighed. "I think everyone know's who needs to be sent."

Harley stood in the center of the warehouse, waiting. A patch of moonlight filtered through a hole in the roof. A familiar tune was stuck in her head that she tried not to hum aloud. She needed to be silent. It felt like a trill of electricity went through her. She couldn't hear or see him, but she knew he was there.

"I was hoping they would send you," she commented sardonically.

Nightwing stared at her in the light, still hidden in shadows. He didn't know what he wanted to say to her. "I like the new costume. It's a lot less… innocent than the first. It suits you," he commented darkly. She had glanced over to where his voice was coming from, but stared down at the edge of the moonlight.

"If I wanted to stay in the game, I needed an upgrade." She gave a small half smile. "I mean can you imagine, there weren't even pockets." She waited, but he didn't say anything. "Besides, it wouldn't have been the same after your little cop girlfriend wore it."

Dick closed his eyes and looked down angrily, his fists clenching at his sides and then releasing again. "No matter what you say, how aloof you act; it pains you to know that she was killed. I know _you_."

"It isn't my fault Miss Moral wanted to play dress up," she snapped, covering. "Although I was impressed. You're stepping outside your comfort zone. She wasn't a red head."

"Last time I checked, I didn't _fall _for a redhead," he said quietly, but she still heard it. He still didn't step any closer. She cleared her throat.

"Isn't this why you came?" She tossed her stolen comm toward him, and it rolled to a stop at his feet. "I thought it was compromised but wasn't sure. You guys sure know how to ruin the fun over there at the Batcave." She was frustrated that he wouldn't come where she could see him, but was also glad for it. It made this conversation easier.

"Your fun with Scarecrow? What are you and the Joker planning?" Nightwing asked, finally stepping out of the shadows into the moonlight coming through the skylights in the roof. Her breathing hitched for a second, and her heart skipped a beat. It was the first time she had seen him since he laid, stabbed on the roof.

She composed herself. "Oh," she teased, cocking her head to the side. "You think I'll ruin the surprise so soon?"

"I don't want to play games." Nightwing narrowed his eyes. The pain that he felt was visible on his face.

"Why does everyone say that to me?" she sighed. "I'm a jester."

"No you're not," he sighed. "Now tell me what you and the Joker are up to."

"The costume may have changed, but I'm still the same clown." She smiled wanly. "Or do I need to blow up another building to prove that point?"

"If that's what you want me to believe, then fine. I'll pretend that I believe that. If only to make you happy." Nightwing looked down. He was starting to feel the pain in his side again, and he could barely look at her without it intensifying.

"You think I'm pretending?" she whispered darkly.

"I do," he replied, his shoulders straightening. Harley wanted to pretend that she didn't see him wince as he did so. She wrapped her arms around her stomach.

"That stab wound would beg to differ."

"_You _didn't stab me," he pointed out, stepping closer to her. She stared him down.

"I might as well have."

"Except you wouldn't have." Dick said earnestly, taking another step forward as he took off his mask.

"Then you seriously underestimate me," she muttered, clenching her hands at her side.

"I think I _overestimate _you. I overestimated your ability to overcome the Joker, I overestimated your love for me." Dick said quietly, his lips pressed tightly together. He closed the gap between them, standing so close to her that she could smell the faint scent of his Axe Apollo cologne.

"I never wanted to overcome the Joker," she snapped, glancing down.

"You did. At one point, after you died, before you ran off with him again; you and I _both _felt like there was a chance. Now… Part of me still hopes." He whispered, pausing for a moment and then cupping a hand under her chin, making her look up at him.

"Maybe I felt like I needed to prove myself to him." His blue eyes pierced hers. "You can't know that anything I ever said to you was true."

She actually saw his face twist in pain at her words. Dick looked down, bit his lip, and then took a deep breath. He stroked her cheek. "I can't know that it was a lie, either," Dick whispered. She grabbed his hand and pulled it away from her face.

"I'm telling you it was."

Dick swiftly grabbed her arms, pulling her close. He watched her, his face close to hers. She could almost feel his breath on her cheek. "No you're not. Drop the act, Harley," he said darkly, his face pained. Their lips almost touched for a moment, but he hesitated. He wanted to believe that she was lying now, that he wasn't losing faith in her. In _himself._

"This isn't an act," she whispered. "You need to move on," she scolded, sounding like the her he remembered.

"I can't." He snapped, closing his eyes. "Why won't you see that I _can't_!?" He still didn't release her arms, and he still didn't step away from her.

"It's easy." The mocking gleam returned to her eyes, and she pushed him away. "Just ask Batgirl. I'm sure she'd be happy to give you some pointers."

Dick stared at her incredulously, trying to keep his shoulders from slumping. "Why would you say something like that!?" he whispered, hurt.

"What? Would you prefer Robin? Or maybe Batman? I'm sure Red Robin can't be too happy with me now either." She pointed her finger at him in warning. "Everyone else sees it, why won't you listen?"

"Because I'm in love," he pressed, looking at her seriously. She slowly withdrew from him; she took a deep breath.

"You can't be in love if you're the only one," she whispered.

Dick let out a short breath, staring at her in rueful disbelief. His mouth opened, but no words came out, and he glanced away from her as he put his mask on. He wanted to look anywhere but at her. He didn't want her to see how much she'd just hurt him; how much she'd broken his heart in that moment. He'd been able to hold on for the longest time as his friends and family had all argued with him, belittled him for his decision in her, because as long as she loved him, he could take it. He could handle disappointing Damian, Barbara, Will, Tim, Alfred, and even _Bruce_; he could handle the guilt because he knew that she was there. That she would always be there. Without that reassurance, he could feel the pain weighing down on him. _They were right. They were all right. _

"Don't say that," Nightwing choked, staring at the dirty warehouse floor.

"I should have gotten out before I hurt you. For _that_, I am sorry," she said gently.

"No you're not," he breathed, closing his eyes. He seemed frozen in place, and he did the only thing that he knew he could. "Why are you targeting the people you released from Arkham?" He asked the question slowly, trying to hide his pain. His voice was still weak. She puckered her lips a little.

"Sorry, I've got to stick to the plan. I guess the only option you have is to arrest me." Harley looked at him expectantly, one eyebrow raised.

_I don't want to fight you._ Nightwing thought. He didn't know what to do. He knew he couldn't hurt her, even if he tried. He pressed the comm in his ear. "Help me," he whispered to anyone who was listening at the Batcave. He needed the guidance. Harley nodded thoughtfully to herself, the faint crease between her eyes.

"I guess that's my cue to leave." She stepped back toward the shadows. Nightwing closed his eyes, feeling ready to be sick. He drew his escrima stick, the tip crackling with electricity.

"I don't think I'm allowed to let you do that," he choked, looking up at her.

"Are you going to stop me?" she taunted.

"We both have people waiting on us that we don't want to disappoint," Nightwing said, a wingding slipping into his hand from his glove. "One of us is going to disappoint them. And I'm not going to let you make me let Batman down again." He swallowed hard, and then threw the wingding in one swift motion. It embedded itself in her leg before she had time to react, and Nightwing was running toward her.

Her leg went out from under her, and she slid onto one knee, her hand reflexively reaching for her wound. Harley automatically tried to glance into Nightwings eyes, but instead saw his mask. She didn't bother to defend herself.

He closed his eyes as the pronged taser connected with her chest. Her mouth fell open, but no sound came out as her eyes rolled back in her head. She fell backward, her body collapsing. Nightwing stared at her for a moment before dropping the escrima stick. It clattered loudly on the concrete floor, and he crumpled to his knees beside her and broke into sobs, covering his face; he didn't want to see what he'd done. He knew what would happen if he brought her back to the Batcave, and he didn't want to be a part of it. After everything she'd done, everything she'd said… "I still love you," he sobbed, dragging her into his arms. He stood weakly, pressing the comm in his ear and then holding her close. "Batman. I have Harley Quinn incapacitated. Orders?" He couldn't stop his sobbing, nor did he care to.

"I'm in route," Batman barked. "Hold on."

"Hurry," Dick pleaded weakly, pressing his nose against Harley's neck and inhaling her rosy perfume. He squeezed his eyes shut tight behind his mask and cried helplessly as he held her close. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." Nightwing sobbed. Batman would no doubt interrogate her; he knew what that entailed, and he wished that he could trade places with her. He left her un-handcuffed, part of him hoping that she would wake up, beat the shit out of him for what he'd done, and escape; but he knew that the pulse he'd hit her with could knock out Killer Croc for a good hour. He cradled her thin frame in his arms, sinking to his knees again. He couldn't stand. Nightwing's stomach was in knots, and his whole body trembled as he brushed the hair away from her face and pressed his lips to her forehead, closing his eyes as he held her tight.

Batman rushed into the warehouse. Nightwing knelt in the center of the large room, Harley Quinn unconscious in his arms as he openly sobbed his broken heart out, his face buried in her hair.

"What happened?" Batman asked, stopping a little ways off.

Nightwing didn't answer, making no effort to try to move or even stop his crying.

"Nightwing did she hurt you?" Batman demanded.

"No!" he shouted, half choked off by his tears. He held her tighter. "Please forgive me. Someday," he whispered. He still didn't stand.

"I know this is hard." Batman paused before clearing his throat. "Do you want to go?"

"I'm not leaving her," Nightwing snapped, standing shakily and turning to Batman. He refused to meet his eyes.

"Okay," Batman finally said. "Let's get her to the Batcave."


	25. What Have I Done?

_**Harley Quinn is the key.**_

_**After Nightwing and Quinn's talk in the warehouse, she'd allowed him to capture her. He'd never had assumed that she would do such a thing, and he regretted it the moment that he'd taken her down. He just wanted to give her a chance, but the time for chances is over. She's with the Joker now, and he can't go back to what it used to be.**_

_**With Harley Quinn in his custody, Batman hopes to solicit the Joker's location, and maybe even his plans from her. Nightwing refuses to leave her side, but sitting through the ensuing interrogation could prove to be torture for them both. The lines between Batman and Bruce Wayne are blurred; and Batman may not be able to differentiate between hurting for information, and inflicting pain for revenge in the name of his son.**_

Harley awoke with a start, gasping at air but keeping her eyes closed as she wrapped an arm protectively around her waist, and she curled up around herself. Her other hand kneaded her forehead. There was a throbbing headache at the base of her skull, her chest felt like there was some bruising, and the gash on her leg stung and itched. Other than that, she felt relatively unharmed. She flicked her eyes open and stared at the cave ceiling. Tossing her arm off her stomach, it landed on hard grating and clanged loudly. She rolled her head to the side and saw the cuff. Pushing herself to a sitting position, she examined the shackles and chains bolted to the floor on either side of her. They were attached tightly to both wrists, but there was plenty of slack. A quick glance around told her there was nothing within reach, though.

A ways away was a computer bank, the Batmobile, but the rest of the cave was blocked off from her line of vision. Four people had been talking around the computer but had stopped when she woke up. "Oh good. It's everyone I know and love," she stage whispered, getting slowly to her feet.

Barbara glanced over her shoulder at Harley and then looked down. They all seemed subdued. Even Damian looked remorseful, and that's when Harley spotted Dick sitting in the chair at the computer banks. His head was in his hands, and he didn't move, save for the occasional tremble of his shoulders as he cried. Barbara's hand rested gently on his shoulder. Damian watched Harley, his arms crossed over his chest.

Harley glanced away, her hands balling into fists at her side. The sudden urge to cry came over her, but she blinked back the tears. _You did this, now face the pain_, she scolded herself. She stared intently at the cave wall as she tried not to listen. She waited. Damian continued to stare at her coldly, and then his arms dropped to his sides and he began to walk toward her.

"Damian," Bruce began warningly, but Damian held up a hand.

"I'm alright, Father. I won't hurt her," he said earnestly, stopping just outside of her reach. He crossed his arms again. "At least not until you allow me to," he added quietly, staring at her hatefully.

"No one is hurting her," Bruce sighed.

"Oh I beg to differ," Damian whispered. He walked to where Harley had turned her head, leaning forward to look her in the face. He narrowed his eyes. "I think Dick is."

"Oh good, they sent the child," she mocked but put no real energy into the joke.

Damian whispered quietly, so Bruce wouldn't hear him. "When this _child _kills you, I want you to think about that-" he pointed at Dick sobbing in the chair- "every day that you spend burning in hell. Because that is the reason that I am going to break my promise to my father." He hissed, his light eyes furious and cold. She met his glare evenly, not looking at Dick.

"Go ahead. It would save everyone a lot of time."

Damian's eyes narrowed. "Look at him."

"I don't need to see what I've done." She returned her gaze to the wall and crossed her arms. "I have to live with it."

"You do. But isn't that you and the Joker's _thing_? Don't you want to enjoy the chaos and pain you've caused?" Damian asked innocently, raising an eyebrow. "Look. At. Him." She clenched her jaw and swallowed hard.

"Don't worry. I'll get my just rewards. So _back off_," she snapped. Damian's face twisted into a hateful scowl, and he suddenly lunged at her, grabbing her face and forcing her to look at Dick. At the commotion, he looked up and his reddened, hollow blue eyes met hers, and then he burst into tears again.

"Damian!" Bruce shouted.

"Do you see that?" Damian released her and spat. "That will be your legacy. When I slit your throat, every hero will know you as the woman who almost destroyed Dick Grayson and _only _when he has recovered, overcome this poisonous affair with you, will you be forgotten. After he rises again, _no one _will remember you." Bruce grabbed him by the arm and yanked Damian away from her furiously. Dick covered his mouth with his arm, closing his eyes and looking away from her.

"That is enough," Bruce hissed at Damian.

"She deserves it!" he retorted, crossing his arms.

Harley sank down and sat crosslegged. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply in and out through her nose as she tried to calm herself and slow her heart rate. Every word Damian had said felt like a physical blow. She wanted to cry and tell them something to make it better, to make it hurt less, but didn't. _It's easier this way_, she told herself sadly. _It's easier if they hate you._ She took one last fortifying breath before calling out, not bothering to open her eyes. "So who's next?!"

Batman looked at her for a moment, and then turned to the rest of them. "Go upstairs," he commanded. Barbara put a hand on Damian's shoulder and went to the elevator, but Dick didn't move. "Dick-"

"-I'm not leaving her," he snapped, taking a deep, shuddering breath. He glared up at his mentor seriously, his face streaked with tears.

"Are you absolutely sure?" Bruce asked quietly. Dick glanced at her, and then nodded.

"I'm sure."

Barbara and Damian stepped onto the elevator, and Batman pulled his cowl over his face. Harley pinched her eyes tighter, holding her breath. She heard his heavy boots cross to her.

"I don't want to hurt you, Harleen. You're sick. We can get you help," he said earnestly. She heard the soft rustling of his cape sweeping the ground.

"How many times do I have to say it?" she sighed. "I've made my decision; there's no going back."

"Yes there is," his voice was gentler now. "I don't think this is _you_. I think you're concealing something. If you give up the Joker now, I have the power to hide you. To send you away… with Dick. You could start over, Harley. You _can _go back. A clean slate."

"It's too late. I have things set in motion that there is no stopping." She breathed in a jagged breath, clenching her fists tight against her legs. She could see the life he offered and wanted it. It would have been easy to say yes, but she forced herself not to listen. Not to look at Dick. Not to think. "Besides, I lost _his_ trust, and I need to prove myself." She took her own comfort from her words that she knew no one else would understand.

"_Why _do you need to prove yourself to him?" Batman asked.

"In case you didn't notice, I'm kind of easy to replace," she muttered.

"Then why go down that path at all? Why lower yourself to his expendable standards?" he pressed, kneeling down in front of her. Despite all the pain that she'd caused his son, Batman knew that she wasn't in control of her own actions. Not completely, anyway. She was an Arkham patient, after all.

Harley smiled and let out a small huff of laughter. "You'll see."

"How about you tell me right now," Batman said, scrutinizing her face. She opened her eyes and glanced at him, shaking her head with an amused look. Batman nodded slowly. "Would you like to think on it? Because I'd rather not hurt you."

"Sorry, I try not to think these days." She shrugged.

"_Please _Harley," Dick said, his hoarse voice barely carrying across the Batcave. He looked up at her, praying she'd meet his eyes. She ignored him, staring at the edge of Batman's cape.

"Last chance," Batman said darkly, standing slowly. He glared down at her. "Tell me where the Joker is, or what he's planning."

"My last chance was ages ago," she said with a wicked smile. Batman grabbed her by her hair and dragged her to her feet.

"Want to re-think that answer?" he growled angrily.

"Are you going to make me?" she asked playfully.

"Yes," he answered seriously, pulling her hair to make her look at him. "You know what I want. Answer me." She raised an eyebrow but said nothing. Batman threw her down to the floor, her head hitting the cold stone and the chains clattering against it, and he twisted an arm behind her back. It strained painfully on her shoulder.

"I thought you only got this intimate with Selina," she mocked through the pain.

"Where is the Joker? What is he planning?" Batman demanded again, putting more pressure on her arm. As he did, he pressed on the back of her leg with his knee where the wingding had torn her skin. She cried out.

"You're the detective, figure it out," she hissed. There was a sharp snap as her arm popped out of socket. Harley sucked in a breath before clenching her mouth shut and trying not to make a sound. When Batman dragged her back to her feet, every motion of her arm shot a jolt of pain up her shoulder.

"Tell me!" he roared, gripping the front of her costume and shaking her violently.

"I'm going to be honest. With you being Batman, I expected more than this."

"I'm only getting started. I have you for as long as I want. Until I turn you over to the police, no one knows you're here." He growled, gripping her dislocated shoulder tightly and pressing his thumb into the joint. She whimpered and closed her eyes.

"Let's face it," she sucked in a breath through her teeth and let out a strangled noise, "no one would come for me anyway."

Dick dropped his head in his hands again. _What have I done?!_

"If you don't think the Joker will come for you, then why protect him? Where is he?" Batman demanded, pressing harder on her shoulder. Her face contorted in pain.

"Well he isn't there, so you can stop with the thumb," she taunted, opening her eyes to glare at him. Batman backhanded her across the face and sent her sprawling on the ground. She reached the end of the chains and the cuffs dug into her wrists. Unable to break her own fall, Harley landed on her hurt shoulder. She howled in agony as she tried to blink back the tears; she curled in on herself.

Dick bit back his protest and ran both his hands through his hair, the tears welling in his eyes again. He spun around in the chair and covered his ears.

Batman grabbed Harley by the arm that dangled uselessly disconnected from it's socket, and dragged her back to her feet. "Where is he!?" he demanded. She was beyond yelling at the pain, but she couldn't stop the tears anymore.

"The Batcave was a lot more fun the last time I was here," she attempted to joke but couldn't focus entirely.

"You'll never have that again," Batman snapped. "We were probably your last shot at a family and you blew it. _Again._ I read your file. You don't even think you have a family." He growled, bracing one hand on her shoulder and pulling her arm.

"I'm sure it was an interesting read," she hiccuped through the pain and tears. It felt like every muscle in her body was tensed against the pain. Batman dropped her arm and grabbed her by the throat, pulling her face close to his.

"Answer me, Quinn."

"I don't think you asked a question that last time," she choked out, her hands grasping at his.

"You know what I want to know!" Batman roared, lifting her off of the ground entirely. Harley couldn't manage to say anything, but she forced a half smile at him as her face turned redder. He threw her to the floor again, and this time she felt the skin at her hairline split as she hit the rock. Spots flashed across her vision, and she suddenly felt dizzy and nauseous. Harley gulped in air as she tried to blink to focus. "Talk," Batman snapped, his boot pressing down on the wound on her leg. She cringed away and groaned. He pressed harder, digging his heel into the cut. Her groan was choked off, and she feebly tried to pull her leg away. Batman bent down above her and grabbed her face, forcing her to look at him. "Where is the Joker, and what is he planning?" He repeated darkly, watching her carefully.

"Don't worry about it B-man." She flashed her teeth in an attempt at a smile. Batman looked genuinely remorseful for a moment, before his hand shot out. She felt a rib snap under his blow as he pulled his hand back quickly, and then grabbed her face again. She tried to gasp in pain but felt winded.

"Where is the Joker, and what is he planning?" he repeated.

"Asking again doesn't change the answer." Her voice was breathy.

"Then I'll try again later," Batman snapped, unlocking the cuffs restraining her and grabbing her by her hurt shoulder. He dragged her across the Batcave to a door, opened it, and then threw her into the dark room. "We'll talk again soon, but for now, think about your answers for when the time comes."

When the door slammed closed, Harley was plunged into complete, swallowing darkness. The kind of darkness that becomes disorienting after a while. Breathing through the pain, she popped her shoulder back into place. She curled into the fetal position as she started to sob. All of her injuries were a nagging throb while her headache had turned excruciating after the fall. Batman's anger and ferocity, while not entirely unexpected, had still come as a surprise. She couldn't explain why she had thought she'd be spared from it.

_You knew what you were getting into_, she reminded herself. _You knew what you would have to give up_. She had known the moment she planned to admit herself into Arkham. Dick going to see her there and still loving her had just been a distraction. She tried to focus on what she was doing and why she was doing it, but her headache made her disoriented. She reached back to feel the stickiness of blood in her hair. After blinking a few times, shaking her head, and her breathing getting more shallow, Harley found she was unable to fight off the lightness creeping over her. It was a relief to pass out.

Bruce walked slowly to Dick where he still sat in the chair, his elbows on his knee, and his head in his hands. He gently put a hand on his shoulder. "Are you alright?" Bruce asked quietly. Dick didn't respond for a long time.

"No," he finally answered honestly, lacing his fingers in front of his lips. "I'm really not." _This is all my fault. _

"Dick," Bruce whispered, "there's nothing else we can do."

"It was a mistake, capturing her." He looked down, rubbing his sore eyes. His voice was thick. "For some reason, I can't stop thinking about her in that yellow sundress when she first came here to meet you all."

"She's not the same person."

"What scares me the most about that is that I don't _care._" Dick said quietly, staring vacantly at the desk. His eyes were listless and hollow.

"What do you mean?" Bruce frowned down at him.

"I still love her. And I hate myself for it. I shouldn't have betrayed her like that, but what choice did I have? It was her or _you_. You know I'll always choose you." Dick looked down, biting his lip as he closed his eyes slowly. "But because of that… for giving her up like that; I deserve every torture that you put on her. It was my fault anyway," he said quietly.

"No," Bruce snapped. "She betrayed you. You need to see that. You cannot keep being blinded by this. She used you to her advantage and betrayed you. All of us. You can keep lying to yourself, but she isn't going to change her mind."

Dick hung his head lower, biting his tongue. He could have responded so many other ways, but hearing it from Bruce… how could he not listen? "Maybe," he whispered, his eyes still shut tight.

"There is no 'maybe', Dick. She has been given so many chances, but she still sticks by the Joker despite all he's done."

Dick looked up at Bruce. "Well why can't I stick by _her _despite all _she's _done?"

Harley had no idea how long she'd been left in the dark room. Within about ten minutes of waking up, she'd lost all sense of direction. She couldn't find the door, there wasn't a handle on the inside. Everything felt like smooth rock. She couldn't tell if it had been an hour or a day, and had resigned to curling up on the cold floor once again.

And then the door opened. She sucked in a ragged breath, her body going rigid, as she blinked through the intruding light. A figure hurried into the room, and she recoiled in surprise when Dick knelt in front of her.

"Get out of here," he snapped frantically, trying to pull her to her feet.

"What are you doing?" she hissed in shock before shuddering away from him as her head pounded with every word she said and move she made. The headache was still excruciating.

"I don't know," Dick whimpered, finally getting her to her feet. "I really don't know. God I'm so sorry…" he touched the back of her head gingerly, biting his lip. "Bruce finally went to sleep. You have to get out of here." He said urgently, and then kissed her softly. Harley gasped in disbelief. "I hope someday you can forgive me." He dragged her to the door. Harley tried to pull herself to her feet.

"Dick," she objected. "I don't want you to get in trouble for this." She tried to free herself from his grasp. He bit his lip again, his eyes flitting nervously around the Batcave. He wore his pajamas, and his dark hair was disheveled; he didn't look completely alert. Suddenly, he threw her over his shoulder and raced to the tunnel that led from the Batcave, ignoring the pain from the stab wound in his side. Putting her back down, he took her face in his hands.

"Run. Just _run_." He kissed her again, his hands shaking.

"Why couldn't you just hate me?" Harley pleaded. "Please." A tear streaked down her cheek. "I don't want to hurt you again. It's better if you do."

Dick wiped the tear away from her cheek and held her tight for a moment. "I can't. The pain is worth it if it means I get to see you. I'd rather be hurt a thousand times over than never get to see you again." He trembled, swallowing hard. As he reluctantly let her go, he pushed her down the tunnel. "Run!" She stumbled forward a few steps before she caught herself and turned to look at him.

"Dick…" Her voice was desperate.

"Go!" he cried, his face white as a sheet. She took a step backward, still not turning away from him.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"I forgive you," he breathed, his words near-frantic. Dick glanced over his shoulder to check that the Batcave was still empty. "Harley _run_!" he urged, pleading with her. She took a few more steps back as she stared at him, shaking her head slightly. With a shuddering breath, she mentally berated herself. Tearing her gaze away from him, she turned and started running. Dick watched her run until she disappeared into the darkness. Turning around and looking at the empty Batcave, he walked slowly toward the elevator, still in a daze.

_What have I done?_


	26. You Shouldn't Be Here

_**Dick knows what he did could destroy them.**_

_**But he chooses to see it like he had no other choice. He couldn't see Harley like that anymore. In a moment of weakness, he'd allowed her to escape the Batcave, and the Batman's interrogation. **_

_**The action tore a rift in the family. Meanwhile, the Joker's plan continues, with Harley at the helm. The one wrench in her gears, however, is Dick. He's unpredictable. So when Nightwing pursues her once again, Harley again tries to force him away, but her actions are becoming less and less forceful...**_

Dick's eyes flew open, and he gasped as he was dragged out of his bed by his shirt collar. In his still half asleep haze, he screamed and tried to defend himself, but Bruce lifted him off of the ground and threw him into the armchair across his bedroom. It skidded back, it's legs scraping against the hardwood floor, and Dick cried out as the back of it slammed against the wall; it jolted him, and his head hit the back of the chair. He gasped and his hand went to his side as pain exploded from his stab wound, and Dick looked up in terror.

"What did you do!?" Bruce bellowed, coming across the room at him. He grabbed Dick by the collar again and lifted him violently out of the chair. Dick's mouth opened in surprise.

"-Bruce-! Put me down- you're _hurting_ me!" he cried, still dazed. Bruce dropped him on the floor, and he stumbled, and when Dick straightened up, Bruce backhanded him across the face.

"You stupid, selfish _child_! Where is she?" he roared as Dick tripped over the chair and fell to the floor.

"Bruce!" Selina cried, racing into the room and grabbing his arms. He roughly shoved her away and hauled Dick to his feet again. Tim, Barbara, and Damian all rushed through the door, and Selina and Tim dragged Bruce away from Dick as Damian pulled Dick back. Both boys went sprawling on the floor when Bruce suddenly let go, and Dick cried out in pain, sitting up on the ground as Damian knelt beside him. He could taste blood in his mouth and feel it on his side where his stitches had burst, but he was so disoriented that the only emotion that could stand out above the rest was terror. He clung to Damian's shirt as Tim and Selina pulled Bruce away.

"Get off me!" he shouted at them both, tearing his arms away from them.

"Shame on you for hurting your son!" Selina shouted, slapping Bruce across the face. "Now what, in the _hell,_ is going on!?" she demanded furiously, glaring up at Bruce. Barbara hurried towards Dick, and she knelt beside him. He still didn't let go of Damian's shirt, clinging to him and panting in his terror. She pulled up his shirt to make sure that the tight bandages would hold his cut for now, but the blood was already seeping through the gauze.

"How could you?" Bruce roared down at Dick, his face a mask of fury.

He stuttered, half hiding behind Damian and Barbara. "Bruce- I don't know! I'm sorry!" he cried, his eyes wide.

"You betrayed all of us for _her_!" Bruce bellowed, shaking Selina off.

Dick didn't know what to do. He couldn't think straight, and he didn't know if he'd been thinking all that clearly last night either, when he'd released Harley Quinn. Damian and Barbara looked at him, surprised. Barbara stepped away. Tim and Selina both turned to stare at him in disbelief and horror, and Damian looked down at him in confusion. Dick felt sick to his stomach. "I'm sorry!" he wailed again, not sure what else to say.

"Do you realize what you've done?" Bruce demanded slowly.

"Yes, I just- I don't _know_-" Dick ran both hands into his hair, closing his eyes. "I'm so sorry-"

"-you're _sorry_?!" Bruce growled, grabbing the front of Dick's shirt. "The person who freed half of Gotham's criminals is back on the street!"

"Bruce, this is bad, but you can't keep _hurting _him!" Selina cried, wrapping her hands around his thick arm and trying to pull him back. The rest of them didn't move, didn't try to help. Bruce elbowed Selina away and slammed Dick against the wall.

"I'm hurting him?!" he snapped. "What does this mean for Gotham? How many people are going to die because of this? So, _yes_, I'm hurting him."

"Bruce-!" Dick choked, trying not to cry. He wasn't going to fight back. He knew he deserved it, but that didn't stop the panic rising in his chest. "If you'd- _listen _to me-" he gasped, his eyes wide.

"Then _what_?" Bruce demanded, dropping Dick to the floor.

Dick bit back the scream rising in his throat as he clutched his wounded side. He gasped, the pain nearly debilitating. "-didn't _betray _you- I just didn't want to watch her get _hurt-_"

"Did you even think what you were doing?" Bruce cried incredulously. "The one person who knows who all of us are, _you_ just sent back to the person out there planning something with every foe we've ever faced! For once we had the upper hand, and now..." he trailed off, breathing deeply to try and control his rage.

"Still have… th' upper hand…" Dick breathed. Something was wrong. He took his hand away from his side, blood coating his palm. "Bruce…" he dithered, his eyes fluttering. "Bruce _stop_… I'm gonna pass out..." Bruce opened his mouth, then snapped it shut, his jaw working furiously. Barbara knelt at Dick's side.

He closed his eyes against the pain and then slumped forward, falling against Barbara. She caught him and tugged his already blood soaked t-shirt away from his side. "We need to re-stitch this stab wound. It tore open again," she looked up at Bruce.

"I'll get Alfred," he muttered, storming out of the room. Damian and Tim still stared at Dick in numb shock. Selina knelt beside Barbara and helped her pick him up and carry him back to bed, laying him on his side. She peeled his shirt off, working quietly.

"Why would he do this to us?" Damian asked suddenly, his voice soft.

"I don't know," Tim whispered. The two of them watched Selina and Barbara as the worked around Dick. Alfred and Bruce came back into the room. Damian looked up at him.

"What now, Father?"

"We'll continue this conversation later." Without looking at any of them, Bruce turned and left again. Damian looked down, crossing his arms tighter over his chest. He sighed.

Alfred began re-stitching the stab wound in Dick's side, and Barbara stroked his dark hair. Dick was the one that they would have looked to in these situations; he was their secondary leader. None of them knew what to do, and they all turned to Selina. She looked at each of them, and then looked down, wrapping her arms around herself.

"I'll go talk to him," she whispered, dreading the encounter. She wandered out into the hall, assuming that he'd go to the Batcave. When she stepped out of the elevator, she looked around. "Bruce?" Selina asked, her bare footsteps echoing as she walked along the stone floor toward the computer banks. He didn't answer, but she could see him slumped forward in the computer chair. "It's not _all_ bad," she whispered, hesitantly putting a hand on his shoulder.

"Tell me one good thing," he pleaded, his head in his hands.

"Damian didn't kill anyone?" she said hopefully, stroking his hair at the back of his neck.

"I wouldn't put it past him yet." He sighed and leaned back to look at her. She smiled a little, brushing his hair back from his forehead and stroking his cheek.

"But it's good that he _hasn't_. You told me to give you one good thing," she shrugged, and then knelt beside his chair. "You can figure this out. You always do."

"This time is different," he muttered. "Dick was always there to solve the problem, not to cause it."

"I don't know what to tell you," she sighed. "Except that he's in love." Bruce looked into her eyes, suddenly glad that when they'd fallen for each other, she'd changed for him. He didn't know what he'd have done.

"Thank you for being here," he told her earnestly. She smiled a little, sadly, and then kissed his cheek.

"You wouldn't be able to function without me," she whispered, smiling. She leaned back on her heels and stood, and then stroked his shoulder. "We have work to do."

"Hello Puddin," Harley called. She stepped nervously into the room, running her fingers through her still damp hair. She tried to stand tall and ignore her dread. Joker sat bolt upright in the chair that he had been lounging in, his hands smacking on the armrests. He whirled around to look at her over the back of the chair, his knees planted on the seat as he stared at her, eyes wide.

"Harley!" he cried, practically leaping out of his chair and rushing to her. "I didn't know where you'd gone, I was so worried!"

"I thought I'd let you chat with Scarecrow and didn't think I'd be needed for the night," her words flowed fast as she quickly explained. She shifted her weight awkwardly. "I'm sorry to worry you."

He waved away her apology and looked her over. "No. As long as you're alright and here and not _dead_," he mumbled. She held her breath, and then slowly released it as the Joker ultimately decided that nothing was wrong with her. He sighed in relief. "Good, good…" Joker nodded, lacing his fingers and pacing away from her.

"Did I miss anything?" Harley asked innocently. She knew he wouldn't be in this good of a mood if the answer was 'yes'.

"Of course not. Things were rather bland around here today, actually, with you not here I had to sit on the balcony and shoot stray cats to break the boredom," he sighed, his shoulders slumping in his purple jacket. He perked up almost instantaneously, though, and turned. "You're up for another job tonight?" Joker asked hopefully, his fingers laced together.

"Absolutely," she smiled, keeping the wince off her face.

"Oh good," he grinned, cocking his head at her. A curl bounced in front of his forehead, and he laughed a bit. "_Tonight_, though. No more of this daytime business, we wouldn't want our favorite friend getting stage fright. I've been doing my part as you've done yours, _beautifully_, by the way; there's no stopping us now, Batman!" He laughed gleefully, clapping in excitement.

It was tricky, slipping down to the Batcave to get his uniform. Nightwing raced across Gotham now on his motorcycle, the night air whipping his hair around his head. The entire family had avoided him. Sneaking out wasn't hard.

The difficult part had been letting them believe that he was a traitor. It still made him sick to his stomach, what he'd done, but he didn't regret it as much as he let them think. He'd helped her escape because he couldn't bear to watch her be hurt any longer by his own father. He'd _told _them as much.

What Nightwing _hadn't _told them, was that he knew that she wasn't going to talk, and he chose to believe that she'd forced his hand. Batman never would have made her give up the Joker, and Nightwing had seen no other alternative than this. So he'd let them think that he let her go because he loved her, and he didn't tell them about the tracker that he'd planted on her costume as he'd pushed her down the tunnel of the Batcave toward her escape, the tracker that he now followed as he tore through the Gotham streets. Eventually, she'd lead him right to the Joker.

He parked his bike in an alleyway and took one last look at the screen of his microcomputer, and then slipped it into his pocket. He fired his grappling hook from the end of his escrima stick and it caught the ledge of the office complex roof ten stories above him. He retracted it and then did a graceful flip onto the roof, his boots landing softly on the shingles. Peering down over the edge, he saw a door open to the street below. Harley stepped out. Nightwing crouched down and watched her intently, and then a smile flashed across his lips. He braced himself against the ledge and then aimed his grappling hook, firing it down at her.

Harley screamed as the cord suddenly wound around her arms, and she was yanked upward toward the roof. Nightwing caught her, his arms around her. She blinked in surprise.

"Hi," he looked at her, smirking a bit.

"Nightwing," she breathed. "You shouldn't be here."

"Well they sure as hell don't want me back at the mansion," he quipped, still not releasing her as they stood on the edge of the rooftop.

"You don't understand. We can't be here. You need to leave," she pleaded.

"Wait, were you serious about that whole 'blow up another building' thing last night?" he asked, looking at her in alarm. The cording pulled off of her, and he stepped back.

"Not me, but-" she was cut off as the base of the building blew out in a fiery explosion. It rocketed it's way through the floors toward them, and they jolted away from each other. Harley stumbled back toward him. "Over there," she yelled over the noise, pointing to a ledge on the adjacent rooftop as she grabbed his arm with her other hand. He quickly wrapped his arm around her and fired the grappling hook across, swinging down to the wall of the adjacent building. He cried out when his boots hit the brick, the force jolting the freshly stitched cut in his side, and then he hit the button to retract the cording, and they were yanked up toward the ledge. Harley tumbled out of his arms and rolled a few feet across the rooftop as another blast blew apart the building beside them. Nightwing threw himself over her as shrapnel and bits of brick and wood rained down around them, his heavy kevlar and nylon suit protecting him and her with his arms around her. She curled into him, flinching away from the noise as her hands fluttered reflexively at his chest.

The explosions stopped, and they listened to the silence. "Are you okay?" Harley whispered. Nightwing carefully leaned back, still holding her in his arms. He glanced over the edge of the building at the burning rubble that had spilled into the alleyway.

"Aw, hell, motorcycle…" He frowned, and then turned to her. "Are _you _okay?"

"Yes." Her voice hitched a little, and she was still a bit shaken. "What are you doing here?" she asked again.

"Asked around town, and was told I'd find you here," he replied. She frowned but didn't contradict him. Slowly she pushed herself to her feet, wincing a bit.

"Aren't you supposed to be under house arrest or something?" she muttered. "You did help a criminal."

"I doubt they'd notice I'm gone," he sighed, and looked down. "And you're one to talk. I'm surprised that the Joker doesn't keep you on a tight leash after you helped _us_."

"Oh please," she scoffed, stretching her arms. "He doesn't know. That would mean explaining my stolen comm and my little escapade last night with you. No thank you, I'm leaving that alone."

"Did you really mean all those things you said to me?" he asked suddenly, looking at her seriously.

"What things?" she asked, on edge.

"In the warehouse." His eyes met hers, and for once, she couldn't figure out what he was thinking. His face was unreadable.

"You need to stop doing this," she told him mildly, glancing away. "Just let me go."

"No." His voice was serious, almost angry. He put a hand on her cheek and made her look at him. "I'm not going to do that." She closed her eyes, and he could see the struggle written on her face.

"Please," she begged weakly. He pulled her face to his and kissed her defiantly, passionately. His other arm wound around her waist and pulled her against him.

"What the hell?" someone said. Nightwing broke away in confusion while Harley let out an annoyed sigh. Nightwing recognized the man as Ulysses Hadrian Armstrong, otherwise known as the General. He was an escaped Arkham patient.

"Not now. The grown ups are talking," Harley told him in annoyance. He looked between her and Nightwing in shock. Harley drew her cork gun and shot the General in the forehead, knocking him unconscious. "Well, it looks like you're taking this one," she told Nightwing.

"Come with me," he breathed, smiling. They could hear police and fire engine sirens wailing towards them through the Gotham streets. His arms were still wound around her waist. Her expression softened.

"I can't," she whispered.

"Not back to the Batcave," he pleaded, and then smiled again. "Come back to my apartment. Just for the night." Harley closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

"Dick, I can't."

"I'll have you back to the Joker before midnight," he grinned, his lips brushing hers.

"Dick. Stop," she moaned. Her eyes popped open and she pushed him away. "Stop," she commanded more firmly.

"I told you. I'm not giving up on you," he insisted, pulling her close again despite her protest.

"You need to," she told him sternly, the crease forming between her eyes. She tried to pull away again. Dick caught her and kissed her again, his taste intoxicating. He held her tight. "No," she cried weakly, breaking off the kiss. She pushed at his chest, trying to distance herself from him. Dick pulled her close and held her tight, pressing her head to his shoulder. He stroked her hair gently and closed his eyes tight.

"Nothing you could say could make me hate you, Harley. I'm _not _giving up on you. I won't leave you." He spoke quietly, pressing his lips to her neck.

"But I'll leave you," she breathed.

"That can come later," he said, resigning to her words. "For now, stay with me." Dick kissed her neck gently.

"Dick, no." She grabbed his face and made him look at her so she could see her words sink in. "I'm with the Joker."

His jaw tightened, and she could see the hurt in his eyes behind his mask. He swallowed hard, and weakly released her, his arms dropping to his sides. His voice was a harsh whisper. "Then kill me."

"No!" she yelled immediately in surprise and alarm.

"Why not?" He looked up at her, his jaw pushed forward angrily. "I will never stop pursuing you. And it's what the Joker would want. So why not?"

She closed her eyes in exasperation. "I'm not going to kill you."

"Tell me why not," he looked at her expectantly.

"Well that would really piss me off," Red Hood said, and they both jumped.

"Don't do that!" Harley objected, her heart rate returning to normal. Nightwing stood silently, his jaw clenched angrily, and then he drew his escrima sticks.

"Jason." He looked at him. "I should have known."

"That I show up when things get blown sky high? Yeah you should have." Red Hood came over closer to them. "Also, so does Batman, so you might want to wrap this up." Nightwing watched him for a moment, and then wordlessly walked toward the edge of the building. "Don't leave on my account," Red Hood mocked.

"Stop it, both of you," Harley ordered. Nightwing hesitated, a boot up on the ledge. He didn't look back over his shoulder at her. She let out an exasperated sigh. "At least take the General with you because I am not explaining that back at the hideout, and Jason can't be left in charge of anything."

"Hey," Red Hood objected.

"Batman will be here any minute. He'll take him," Nightwing snapped. "Both of you should get the hell out of here before he arrives because it's not going to be pretty." Harley narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips.

"Fine." She strode over to him, and before Nightwing could react, drew a knife and cut a part of his uniform away from his shoulder. "I need some reason to give." She raised an eyebrow to see if he would object. He watched her sadly, and then nodded.

"Leave, unless you want to stay here and watch me receive a beating," he snapped. "You too, Jason." Harley walked away across the roof, leaving the two of them alone.

"And what are you going to do?" Red Hood asked him.

"About _what, _Jay?!" Nightwing demanded, glaring at him icily. His tone had changed from dejected to furious in less than a second.

"You're just going to sit here and wait for Batman to come and get mad at you?"

"I don't have a _choice_, and I more than deserve it. If it wasn't for me, none of this would have ever happened." Nightwing snapped heatedly.

"This is true," Red Hood admitted. "But I think that's better than you realize."

"Care to elaborate?" he asked, rubbing his temples in irritation. Red Hood shrugged his shoulders.

"Nah, just get out of here. Batman isn't pissed at me. What he doesn't know won't hurt him."

"I'm not in the mood for this, Jay. If this is some joke you're pulling on me, I swear to God…" Nightwing glared at him.

"Are you going to trust me or not?" he demanded. "Because you don't really have very many people on your side right now."

"For the record, I _don't _trust you. But you're right. Thanks." He sighed, and then tipped backward over the ledge, disappearing into the night.


	27. Afraid That Was the Endgame

_**They know.**_

_**After Red Hood's encounter with the General the night before, the Batman family may finally know what the Joker is striving towards. After Nightwing's encounter with Harley Quinn, his suspicions have been confirmed.**_

_**Some part of her, small or not, still loves him. And he isn't about to give up on her. With the knowledge of the Joker's plans, Batman is two steps closer to bringing the clown prince's reign of terror to a close. And Nightwing is one step closer to saving Harley Quinn.**_

Damian walked silently up the grand staircase, and then his fingers traced along the wall as he slowly made his way toward Dick's room. His hand hovered on the handle before he pushed it open, his eyes suddenly adjusting to the dark. The only light in the bedroom came from the open window where Dick sat on the window seat, enjoying the cool breeze blowing in. Dick didn't look at Damian as the door closed behind him. The smaller boy watched him, clasping his hands behind his back.

"Do you plan to spend all day up here?" Damian asked. Dick glanced at him, an eyebrow raised.

"It's six in the morning. It's not even day yet."

"My day starts an hour ago," Damian quipped, his nose turning up in the air. "Join us in the Batcave."

"Is that what Bruce wants?" Dick asked quietly, finding it hard to believe that Bruce would want to see him at all.

"Father hasn't requested you." Damian said seriously. "But he hasn't forbidden you."

"I'll pass, Damian, thanks," Dick sighed, pulling his knees to his chest and resting his chin on them. Damian turned to the door and pulled it open.

"Todd is here with news, also, if you're interested," he said offhandedly over his shoulder, and then disappeared into the hallway. Dick looked up, and then quickly followed him. Damian was waiting in the hall, and they both came down the elevator together.

The talking that had been going on immediately ceased when Dick stepped off of the elevator. Bruce sat in his chair with his back to the computers, his fingers laced together, and Barbara leaned against the desk by his right shoulder. Jason stood in front of them, and Selina leaned against the other side of his chair. Tim was sitting cross-legged on the ground, his Red Robin mask pulled back away from his tired face, and his cape was spread out in a fan behind him. Damian advanced casually toward the group, but Dick stopped a ways off, not sure if he was welcome any closer.

"Dick." Bruce cleared his throat. "Glad to see you're looking better," he said flatly. Dick didn't respond, still afraid to get anywhere near Bruce. He stepped a bit closer, standing near Tim.

"Are we done with the awkward staredown, or can I start?" Jason asked, crossing his arms.

"No one is stopping you, Todd," Damian sneered, crossing his arms.

"You know, me sharing my intel is a courtesy," Jason warned. "Sometimes I get the feeling I'm not exactly trusted here."

Dick looked down, biting his lip. Barbara rolled her eyes, but spoke gently. "Quit playing around, Jason." She smiled a little. She looked as tired as Tim and Bruce did.

"Fine. That fun little explosion last night was the General," Jason told them. "Harley was there to talk to him, so I took an interest."

"I interrupted their party. Harley wasn't too pleased. She ripped my uniform and everything," he added casually. "But I managed to capture the General at least. The two of us had a nice little talk about what she wanted." Jason smiled to himself.

Bruce leaned forward in surprise. Dick breathed a sigh of relief, and shot Jason a grateful look. Bruce pulled his gloves off. "What did she want? What did you find out?"

"Well I know what the Joker wants with all the inmates." Jason scratched the back of his head. "Turns out he's having Harley recruit them. He's trying to form his own 'Injustice League'."

Barbara audibly gasped as Bruce sat back in his chair, running a hand through his hair. Tim whistled slowly. "Shit," he muttered, looking up at Jason. He glanced at Bruce.

"I was afraid that that was the endgame," Bruce muttered, shaking his head.

"You suspected this?" Damian demanded.

"It was one hunch of many," Bruce said calmly, turning to his computers and pulling up the list of inmates released from Arkham.

"Who's been recruited?" Barbara asked, watching him. "How can we know what we're going to be up against?"

"Harley Quinn has spoken to Man-Bat, Scarecrow, and the General. That isn't counting the ones that the Joker and his men may have been in contact with. We only know of the three, but we can assume everyone that he broke out of Arkham was a target for his group."

"Two." Jason corrected. "Harley got to _two_."

"Two?" Bruce repeated, turning slowly in his chair.

"Don't look at me like that. We all knew I wasn't exactly a saint."

"Jesus, Jason…" Barbara shook her head, and Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose in irritation.

"You could have just handed him over to the police!"

"Yeah," Jason muttered looking pointedly at the ceiling. "When I asked him why he blew up the building, he didn't have a good enough answer to make his life worth it." He shrugged. "He got what was coming to him."

Damian smirked in approval, and Bruce shook his head slowly. Tim, Dick, and Barbara all watched Bruce for guidance, not saying a word. "I told you. We don't kill. You are a member of this family, Jason, as long as there is a bat on your chest, you've got to stop killing people," he finally said.

"I love getting the whole family speech again, by the way," Jason hissed.

"Cut him some slack, Bruce," Dick said quietly. Bruce pinched his eyes closed.

"Sweetie," Selina purred, running her fingers through his hair. "We have bigger things to worry about right now."

Bruce nodded.

"Well, in that case, I'm out of here," Jason said, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Wanna come beg food off of Alfred?" he asked Dick, flashing him a smile.

He shrugged listlessly and turned to follow Jason to the elevator.

"So we agree never to talk about this," Jason whispered. "He would skin us both alive."

"Agreed." Dick nodded, glancing over his shoulder.

"So," Jason glanced at him as the stepped into the elevator. "You and Harley Quinn looked pretty cozy last night."

"Jesus, don't…" Dick pinched the bridge of his nose, a hand in his pocket. "...don't start with me, Jay."

"You had a thing with her?" Jason asked wickedly.

"Yes," Dick told him, exasperated.

"With her?" Jason asked again, an eyebrow raised.

"Yes," Dick snapped.

"I'm sorry. I just can't believe that you had a thing with her."

"Shut up Jason," Dick advised.

"Oh no, no I'm proud. Good for you. Way to get out of the dating slump."

"I am not afraid to beat you."

"Why? I'm on your side!"

"There is no side." Dick muttered, watching the elevator doors impatiently.

"So," Jason asked. "How was she? Like, between the sheets?"

"That is none of your business!"

"Ha! So you _did_ sleep with her!"

"Jason back off," Dick warned.

"Were you safe? Or should I start calling you Papawing?" Dick took a swing at him. "Grandbat will be so proud."

"Why does everyone keep bringing this up?"

"You protect the city, did you protect your willy?" Jason chanted like a commercial.

"I am _still_ not having this conversation!"

"If you used your night stick, I hope you wrapped it up quick!" Jason replied. Dick caught him by the throat, his cheeks burning, and then hurled him out of the elevator as the doors opened. Jason tumbled into the library and crashed into a suit of armor.

"Master Dick, what is going on here?" Alfred demanded, appearing around a corner. "Oh, I see. Master Jason what have you done?"

"Hey! He attacked me, okay?" Jason defended, picking himself up off the ground.

"Clearly you didn't hit your head hard enough to shut you up," Dick snapped, crossing his arms; his cheeks and ears still burned red.

"Did I strike a nerve?" Jason taunted.

"I said shut _up_, you little-"

"-Master Dick," Alfred warned. Dick closed his mouth, glaring at Jason.

"You don't see me bring up June's older sister, the girl from the carnival," Dick muttered.

"May?" Jason asked incredulously. "Oh I got out as soon as I found out they had a sister named April."

Dick rolled his eyes, his arms falling to his sides. "What about Poison Ivy?" he sneered, smirking at Jason, an eyebrow raised.

"Oh yeah that's an interesting story," Jason scoffed, but a blush crept across his cheeks. "A girl who the slightest touch would kill me. Try again." He cleared his throat.

"Ha!" Dick exclaimed triumphantly, pointing at him. "I knew it. She's like fifteen years older than you, you're nothing more than a kid with a _crush_. At least _I _got somewhere with mine."

"Well at least mine's not shagging the Joker," Jason snapped before immediately regretting it as the smile slid from Dick's face. "Shit. I'm sorry."

Dick bit his lip angrily, looking down, the redness returning to his face. "No you aren't." He shoved his hands in his pockets and turned to walk out of the library.

"Okay, I'm not sorry I said it," Jason admitted quietly. "But I am sorry it's true."

Dick stopped, and Alfred looked between the two of them. "You know, I _am _good for more than cleaning up after you. Whenever Master Bruce had troubles with romance, I'd fix him something to eat. Tea always clears the mind, boys," he smiled a little.

"And tea fixes things how?" Jason asked.

"You'd be surprised." Alfred smiled and headed back toward the kitchen. Jason and Dick looked at each other and then shrugged, following him out of the library.


	28. Caught Up in the Middle

_**There will always be casualties.**_

_**The Joker is nearly through rounding up Gotham's villains for his own 'Injustice League', or so Batman thinks; the Joker has his own agenda. He will murder them all before the Caped Crusader can do anything to stop him. And Harley Quinn has had a hand in it, as well. She is guilty.**_

_**Nightwing's obsession with her had him following her when she met with the General. Now he's dead because he intervened. The Joker knows nothing of their relationship, or so Harley hopes; but he does know that the Nightwing is becoming a nuisance. He'll have to get rid of him, or in the very least- slow him down.**_

Harley paused outside the door. No one else was around, and she took that as a bad sign. Her hand trembled as she reached for the handle, so she flexed her fingers.

"I'm back," she called in, as she finally opened the door. The television screens were all the lost connection blue. The high winged chair was bathed in their pale light. She could see a single gloved hand resting on the armrest.

"What happened?" Joker asked slowly, his voice threateningly low.

"Well, I got to the General," Harley said walking carefully toward him. "And he had his fun, but…"

"But _what_, Harley?" Joker jumped up to his feet and spun toward her. He was washed out in the ghostly lights of the television screens. After a moments hesitation, she held out her scrap of cloth.

"Nightwing showed up." Joker snatched the bit of uniform and glared at the blue and black with a twisted smile forced on his face.

"So wonder boy spoils it again," he spat. "And now every little bat and bird in town will know my plan." His eyes sought Harley's, filled with malice.

"Undoubtedly," she admitted drily. "But weren't they going to find out anyway? Someone was bound to let spill now that the word is getting around."

"That isn't the point!" he screamed, waving the bit of cloth in her face. "He keeps interfering in my plans. Sure I expected the Bat, but the two of them aren't playing together anymore."

"So Nightwing is what you have a problem with?" she asked quietly.

"Yes! This glorified pidgeon is becoming a pest." Joker rubbed his mouth. "He won't die when I want him too," he mumbled. Harley kept her face even. Taking a deep breath through her nose, she smiled.

"But you said it yourself Puddin, he's working independent. How are you going to find him?" The Joker's face turned thoughtful. He turned away and sat back down, steepling his hands in front of his mouth.

"Someone has got to know something right? Who does he care about?" Joker muttered. Harley puckered her lips, glad he wasn't looking at her.

"Batman," she offered quietly.

"Yes, yes," Joker waved her away, not really listening. "But who else?" He narrowed his eyes. "There has got to be someone or something I'm missing." He started mumbling to himself too quiet for her to hear, so Harley backed silently away. Once far enough, she hurried quickly back through the door.

Dick ignored the shooting pain in his side with every movement, biting his lip. His fingers rested relaxedly on the back of his neck as he sat up and then lowered himself again, his ankles bound to the top of the bathroom door frame. He ignored the sweat dripping into his eyes and pulled himself up again, bending at the waist until his head touched his knees.

"Not your best idea to work out with a stab wound," Barbara said. Dick slowly lowered himself, exhaling slowly, and looked at her. She turned her head a bit so she could smile at him upside down. "Though I have missed watching you work." She added, placing the tray of food on his desk beside his open laptop. Dick ignored her, his hair brushing the floor as he pulled himself up, holding his head against his knees for a moment. Barbara crossed her arms, watching him.

"What are you doing here?" Dick asked, the strain clear in his voice as he slowly straightened out again.

"I'm helping Alfred out for a bit, and…" Barbara trailed off, admiring the flexed muscles of his abs and chest as she watched him. She stepped closer and examined the bandaging around his waist. Dick huffed irritably.

"You're in my _way_," he snapped, and Barbara quickly stepped to the side so he could pull himself up again. His forehead touched his knees and he breathed in slowly, his eyes closed. Spots of blood had soaked through the gauze.

"You shouldn't strain yourself, Dick," She muttered, and couldn't stop her eyes from tracing over his powerful arms as he pressed them to his sides and dropped back down.

"Do you need anything else?" Dick said irritably, glancing at her. Barbara blinked.

"Oh. Right. Officer… oh… Officer what's-his-name is here to see you. Officer Collins." She blushed, stepping away from him. Dick grunted softly as he sat up again, but he didn't respond. "Your partner?" Barbara added helpfully.

"I know who he is," Dick said in annoyance. "I'm waiting for you to _disappear. _Go get him if he's here, don't leave him waiting."

Barbara hurried from the room without another word. Dick exhaled slowly, lacing his fingers behind his head as he unfolded down, his hair brushing the floor. Will stood in the bedroom doorway. He was wearing a black button up shirt and black slacks and shoes instead of his GCPD uniform.

"I heard nothing around the station about you trying to slice your stomach out," Will said, looking at his bandaging, "so I'm just going to assume that's one heck of a story." Dick frowned irritably and sat up, gripping the door frame and slipping his feet out of the binding. He flipped backward and landed on his feet beside the desk, glancing at his computer. He finally looked up at Will.

"I got stabbed," he said casually, and then walked into the bathroom. A moment later he came out, mopping his face with a towel.

"Does it have anything to do with the Arkham escape?" Will asked with an amused look.

"Yeah," Dick muttered, looking at him quizzically. He pulled a t-shirt on over his head. "The Batmobile lost a wheel and the Joker got away, and all that…"

"Are you going to tell me about it? Or has that been why you've been avoiding me the last few days?"

Dick ran a hand through his hair and dropped his towel on the desk chair. "I wasn't avoiding you. It's complicated, Will. I just didn't want you to get caught up in the middle of it." He sighed.

"Is it more complicated than the funeral I just went to?" Will demanded. "Because I thought Joan would have wanted you there."

Dick stared at him for a moment, and exhaled slowly. He closed his eyes as he nodded, biting his lip. "I couldn't go, Will."

"Why not? Give me a good reason why her best friend on the force couldn't make it." Will crossed his arms, not relenting.

"Because she died in my arms!" Dick snapped angrily.

"She-" Will cut himself off, looking at Dick in surprise. "She what?"

"I don't know what the hell Gordon was thinking, but- She was the new Harley Quinn. I think the Commissioner had her undercover. On the night of the Arkham escape, Joker stabbed her and ran, and I tried to help her. She died in my arms." Dick repeated, looking down. "I couldn't go to that funeral. I couldn't face those people knowing that I'd failed her."

"She was…?" Will ran a hand across his face. "Oh, wow. And you… Dick I'm sorry." He sighed. "I had no idea. Gordon didn't disclose much, just that she died on duty." He shook his head. "That's terrible. And the Joker?... Dang."

"Yeah. He stabbed her, stabbed me, and then rabbited. With the Arkham break… we've been incredibly busy. How were things at the station?" Dick asked, sitting down slowly and wincing. Blood spots had appeared on his shirt from the wound in his side. It was healing as quickly as it could, but his elevated heartbeat had caused it to bleed a bit again.

"Sorry," Will said, shaking his head. "You brushed that off quick. I'm not used to this whole thing. Um, well the Commissioner lifted your suspension. I have a feeling he would have reconsidered had he known about that." Will glanced at the blood.

"Then I guess it's best he doesn't know," Dick replied, a hand on his knee. He looked up at Will. "Not used to what whole thing?"

"The fact that you can go through all of this and still talk to me like everything's fine."

To Will's surprise, Dick smiled a little. "If you'd seen what I've seen in my lifetime, you wouldn't be so upset either. After a while it becomes part of the job. Funerals. I've been to more than I can remember, and been invited to more than I could count." He looked down, lacing his fingers together, his elbows resting on his knees. "It doesn't get any easier to witness it, but it gets easier to accept it. The work has to be done."

"I've been to my share of funerals," Will said, "and so far it hasn't gotten any easier." Will sat on the edge of his bed. "You should at least visit the grave. I know it has to be hard, despite what you say. I mean, she was Harley Quinn while your girlfriend wasn't. You can't tell me that's easy to deal with."

Dick closed his eyes. "Believe it or not, getting wound up in the middle of these things, and adding romantic involvement on top of that, isn't exactly new either. But… you're right. It _is _different this time."

"And how's that?" Will asked seriously, leaning forward. Dick ran a hand through his hair.

"That's… a lot to explain," he sighed, sitting up and crossing his arms as he looked at Will. "Harley isn't exactly a saint. Neither is Red Hood. But it's hard, being torn in half like that. I can't uphold the Batman family and try to save Harley Quinn at the same time. If I upset the balance in any way, if one needs my help more than the other; I could lose the other." He looked down and chuckled softly. "It was all a lot simpler when I was with Batgirl. But that was a long time ago."

"It was all a lot simpler when I just thought you were doing illegal street fighting," Will told him with a smile. "And I'm glad that now I know, but as far as I can tell, nothing has ever been simple for you."

Dick bit his lip and smiled a little. "It was, once. When it was just the three of us against the world. So much has changed. I'm sorry I dragged you into it, Will."

"Hey, in my opinion, it's better than attending my funeral," Will joked.

"I suppose you've got that right," Dick smiled, burying his concern and worry.

"Well," Will said, hitting the edge of the bed as he stood up. "I should get home and lie to my beautiful wife, because 'I know nothing'." He chuckled before staring Dick down seriously. "You should really go talk to Gordon, but I think you know who you should go see first."

"Yeah. Yeah, I think you're right," Dick sighed, standing. They walked out into the hall and were nearly knocked over when Damian sprinted past, his Great Dane on his heels. Dick chuckled a bit, and he walked Will to the doors.

"I'll see you later Grayson," Will said, patting him on the shoulder before heading down the front steps to his squad car. Dick turned around and then set off to the garage, grabbing the keys to Bruce's Lamborghini.

When he arrived at the cemetery, Dick headed straight for the fresh mound of earth in the very back, along the gate that surrounded the entirety of the cemetery. Plenty of empty plots stretched out past it, and Dick parked his car on the path and got out, slipping his sunglasses onto his nose. His boots crunched in the gravel and then stopped before the grave, the scent of fresh cut grass and wet earth filling his nose. A flimsy cross made of flowers marked the head of the grave, with a small flag plunged into the dirt beside it. A single red rose lay over the mound of earth.

"Hey," Dick said quietly, smiling a little. He cleared his throat and sat down beside the flower cross, dropping the paper bag that he'd brought in his lap. "I figured you'd probably be pretty pissed about me missing your funeral and all, so I hoped I could make it up to you. I don't normally do this, but ah-" He pulled out the bottle of beer and planted it in the dirt beside the grave, smiling a little. "It's just… I don't drink. And I feel guilty that…" he trailed off, inhaling slowly. A breeze blew through the tombstones, again carrying the sharp scent of cut grass with it. He could hear the groundskeeper mowing somewhere in the vast cemetery. Dick picked up the beer and opened it, turning the bottle over in his hands.

"I'm sorry," he finally said, glancing at the grave. "This is all my fault, and I'm sorry, Joan. I'm sorry you got caught up in the middle of it." Dick thoughtfully picked up the rose, smelling its sweet scent as it's soft petals brushed his lip. He put it back down, and then poured some of the beer on the grave. "One for you." He smiled a little, and then pulled his knees to his chest, hiding his face in his arms.

"Harley! Welcome back!" Joker called as soon as she stepped into the room. Her stomach sank at his suspicious new enthusiasm.

"Hi Puddin, what did I miss?" She hadn't been gone long, only a few hours. Joker strode over to her and gently grabbed her arm.

"Oh, not much Darling. I've just had some company over." He threw back his head and laughed.

"Hmm," Harley sighed. "And who might that be?" she asked casually, trying to match his enthusiasm, but the dread in her gut wouldn't go away.

"Remember what I said about our little pigeon problem?" he asked, waving his hand and smiling at the memory. "Well I found someone I thought might help, but unfortunately, I struck out." He still giggled to himself.

"You seem quite chipper about this," she commented mildly.

"Oh, we had _loads_ of fun together anyway," he chuckled savagely.

"Really?" Harley breathed.

"Yes, yes of course. Would you like to meet him?" Joker tightened his grip on her arm and pulled her from the room. "I'm sure he'd love to _see_ you." He cackled at his own inside joke. He dragged her along to a door that was padlocked closed. Releasing her, he hummed as he dug around in his jacket pockets for the key. Joker smiled and glanced at her out of the corner of his eye as he unlocked the door. He flung it open dramatically.

As soon as the light from the hall fell across the man seated in the chair in the dark room, Harley closed her eyes and turned away.

"He's the one man Nightwing saved from the police station," Joker narrated, not looking at her as he examined his handiwork. "Naturally, I thought he might know something." Harley brushed away a tear before he noticed. "He insisted and insisted that he didn't see anything and that he had nothing to say," Joker dragged out each word before giggling wildly to himself; Harley flinched. "Now he won't see or say anything again."

Harley forced herself to look again at the horror, her throat contracting around sobs. The Joker had sewn Will's eyes and mouth closed with black thread. Two more strands of black thread looped through the corners of his mouth to his ears, tugging them up in a demented, jagged smile.

Joker turned to look at her, and she plastered a smile on her face, making a vague note in her throat. Will tilted his head around, listening to the noises. "I felt this was _so_ appropriate for someone so unobservant," Joker taunted, moving to pinch Will's cheeks. Will shook his chair violently, bound in it by ropes. "Don't be like that," Joker pouted, wrapping an arm over Will's shoulders. "We had fun, I admittedly more than you, but I did enjoy listening to you scream... while you could." He smiled proudly at Will, like he was some grotesque quilt.

"What are you going to do with him?" Harley asked casually, stepping into the room and avoiding looking at Will. His head snapped around at her voice, and a vein throbbed in his neck.

"Kill him I suppose," Joker sighed looking at Will's profile sadly. He flicked the seam across Will's right eye.

"No!" Harley cried. Joker glanced at her suspiciously. "Why would you do that?" she asked quietly.

"He serves no purpose. Mere entertainment," Joker snapped. He took out a pistol and waved it by his side. He prodded Will in the leg with it.

"But what kind of message does that send if he's dead?" Harley pressed, she clutched her trembling hands behind her back. "Dead men can't talk or see anyway." Joker paused, rubbing the barrel of the gun along his cheek.

"You have a point," he muttered thoughtfully.

"Shouldn't he been seen somewhere public where he can be heard loud and clear, so to speak?" she pleaded. Joker beamed before bursting into laughter.

"Harley dear, you are absolutely right."

"I have the perfect place in mind, Puddin." Harley swallowed hard as Joker came over to stand in front of her.

"I should never doubt you." He tapped her on the shoulder with the gun before walking past her whistling. "Do enjoy yourself, you two!" he called. As soon as he was far enough away, Harley scrambled over to Will's side.

"Oh my God, I am so sorry," she choked in a whisper as tears streamed down her face. Her hands fluttered by Will's face, but she was too afraid to touch him. The skin around the stitches was puffy and red. She fumbled with the knots in the rope binding him to the chair. "I'm so sorry Will." She wiped the tears away with the back of one of her gloved hands as she finally loosened the knots. She breathed the words close to his ear as she pulled the ropes away, "I'll get you to Dick. I promise."


	29. I Didn't Say Anything

_**The Joker succeeded. **_

_**By targeting him on the night he was chosen to lead his brothers, and leading him to failure, the Joker divided Dick from his family. Now, with his attack on Will, he drives Dick further and further away from the people who could help him. **_

_**Blaming Harley for Will's condition, Nightwing rashly goes after her, battling her in a foolish attempt to get the Joker's attention. Harley warns him against it, but he doesn't listen; if the Joker finds him, in his current state of well-being, he's done for.**_

Dick had to admit, he'd missed being at the station. As he sat in the chair in front of Commissioner Gordon's desk, wearing his uniform, he couldn't help but feel a bit relieved. This was distanced from Batman and the chaos that that side of his life had brought recently. "It's good to be back, Sir."

"Are you sure you're fit to be back on active duty?" Gordon asked him, glancing over the top of his glasses as he pushed files around on his desk.

"Definitely. Thank you, for looking out for me," he added, smiling a little. "The rest really helped."

"Good because we need you functioning at one hundred percent." Gordon picked up a pen and rolled it between his thumb and pointer finger. "Gotham is in turmoil right now."

"Yes sir," Dick nodded solemnly. "I can assure you I'll be at full throttle. You can count on me, as always."

"What the hell?" Gordon asked suddenly, looking over Dick's shoulder. Dick's eyebrows knit and he followed the Commissioner's gaze through the windows of his office. Every officer was leaving their desk to run toward the front of the station. The Commissioner pushed back his chair and strode over to the door. "What is going on?" he yelled. Dick couldn't stop a sinking feeling in his stomach, and he didn't know why.

"There's something happening in the street!" an officer hollered over his shoulder as he followed everyone to the front door. Dick trailed behind Gordon as he marched through the station, pushing aside anyone who got in his way. Two detectives at the front door were smashed behind as he stormed out into the street. Dick stepped confusedly down the front steps of the station The sun was setting, and the old street lamps were starting to come on. A ring of people, including officers, were gathered on the sidewalk. Dick started toward them.

"Call an ambulance!" someone screamed.

"Where did he come from? Did he walk here?!" Dick's footsteps hurried a bit.

"How is he alive?!" a woman shrieked, backing out of the circle. Gordon quickly filled her spot.

"Jesus Christ!" he swore. Dick shoved his way through the officers angrily.

"Get these civilians back! Get them…" Dick barked at the other officers, until he finally reached the center of the crowd. He recoiled in shock. Will was kneeling at the center of the circle, his legs splayed out beside him as he clung to the shirt of a young police officer. The man was half recoiled away from Will in horror and disgust. Will's head was bobbing toward the young man in desperation. Tears mixed with blood ran in jagged tracks from between the neatly stitched x's across his eyelids. His jaw was working slightly, but it strained uselessly against the matching seam binding his lips together. The worst part was the twisted smile forced across his cheeks by the two simply knotted pieces of string.

Dick swallowed hard, his heart pounding in his throat as he dropped to his knees beside his partner. "Will. Will! I'm here. Come here." Dick pulled Will to him, forcing him to lie down with his head in Dick's lap. "Don't move!" he commanded, and then looked up at the other officers. Some of the civilians had already pulled out camera phones. "Somebody give me a pocket knife!" Dick shouted. One of the officers quickly unfolded the blade and Dick put a hand on Will's chest. "This is going to hurt a bit. Do not move!" he snapped, bracing a hand against Will's chin. He cut away the pieces of thread pulling Will's cheeks into a smile, and then tucked the knife under the stitch on his lips.

"Gordon, get these people _back!_" Dick shouted, and then clenched his jaw. "Don't move, Will," he reminded him, and then swiftly cut all of the stitches off of his mouth in one skillful move. Will made his first noise as a cry of pain escaped his lips.

"Officers get these people back!" Gordon was ordering, trying to get the crowd away as they gasped in fascination. Will whimpered frantically as Dick tugged the threads out of the holes. Dick pulled Will up into his arms, bracing Will's head on his shoulder.

"I've got you, Will. You're safe now. I'm not gonna do the eyes. They'll do that at the hospital. Can you tell me what happened?" Dick breathed, dropping the pocketknife.

"The Joker," Will mumbled quietly through his swollen lips.

"All right. The ambulance is almost here, just breathe. You're safe now," he repeated. Will's hand groped blindly at Dick's chest.

"He wanted to know about Nightwing." His words were slightly garbled, but he was frantic to get them out. Blood dripped out of the corner of his mouth. Dick wiped it away as gently as he could, and he swallowed the terror rising in his chest. "I didn't say anything," Will whispered quietly, baring his teeth at the pain.

"That doesn't matter right now, Will, you need to stop talking. It's only going to hurt worse-"

"-and Dick," Will stammered on. "Harley-" he cut off with a wince and a whimper. "Harley, she-" he tried again.

"-Will. Be quiet. This can wait." Dick pleaded. They could hear sirens wailing toward them down the street. Will groaned as his cheek spasmed in pain. Dick stood, lifting Will off of the ground.

"Everyone _out _of the way!" he bellowed at the crowd. The ambulance stopped by the curb and Dick carried Will toward it as they threw open the back doors. "I'm so sorry Will," Dick said as he handed him up to the EMT in the back. He didn't step onto the ambulance, and instead backed away from the doors. "But there's something I have to do."

Harley rolled her eyes at the noise of the poker game as she walked down the hall. She tossed the bedroom door open and headed to the dresser, one hand reaching for the brush as the other went to remove a pigtail. Her hand froze in midair. The window was open; the curtains rustling gently. She spun around, searching the shadows. When she turned back to the mirror, she had to react quickly to stop the escrima stick coming at her head. She caught it and stared in shock at Nightwing's face, furious behind his mask. He swung the other escrima stick and she dodged it, leaping away from him.

"What are you doing!?" she hissed. He scowled, his jaw pushed forward in anger, his stance spread and ready to fight.

"You wanted me to hate you. You and the clown have my attention. Message received," he spat, brandishing both escrima sticks. Her eyes narrowed.

"You shouldn't have come here," she threatened, body tense. Nightwing looked beside himself with fury. His familiar playful, cocky smile didn't grace his face. He didn't even smirk.

"I'm not here for you," he snapped, his voice dangerously on edge. Though Nightwing seemed healthier than he had in days, he still looked taxed. The part that scared her, however, was that he didn't seem to _care._ He looked too angry to worry about his own well-being, and it was a dangerous state of mind combined with his emotions; every ounce of pain, frustration, anger, sorrow and determination had boiled over into sheer rage. He pointed an escrima stick at her menacingly, his words laced with disdain. "Where's your lover?"

"Sorry," she dragged out the word, "but he's busy at the moment. It looks like you'll just have to settle for me." Her hand twitched as she watched his every move carefully. "And I can't afford to make any more mistakes."

"I don't think you can either. Let's just call him in here, shall we?" Nightwing snapped, and then smashed the mirror beside him with lightning speed. The glass shattered loudly and fell in smashed pieces to the floor. He lunged at her, part of him reluctant to hurt her; images of Will flashed through his mind, and he bit down on his lip, any doubts he had vanishing. His escrima stick lashed out, and she caught it, using his momentum.

"You're foolish for retaliating," she snapped at him as she hooked one foot on the back of his knee, buckling it. He fell to the ground, and she pinned him down. Nightwing glared at her resentfully.

"I'm defending my partner," he snapped. "It's what people do for people they love." In one swift motion, he threw her off of him and jackknifed to his feet.

"I know. I'm doing the same," she muttered, as she got back on her feet. She attempted a spinning kick at his face, which he caught, tossing her aside again.

"I'm taking the Joker to prison or the morgue. Maybe not tonight, but I'm going to do it. Then what will you have left, Harley?" he shouted angrily, advancing on her. She dodged his first few blows, coming fast from all angles, but then he anticipated her move and caught her arm, twisting it behind her back.

"I can tell you right now, you aren't hurting anyone I love." She ducked down, twisting around and ignoring pain it sent through her shoulder. Harley kneed him in the stomach as she pried her arm free. He doubled over, crying out and clutching at the stab wound in his side, and then spotted the chair beside the table. He picked it up and hurled it at Harley, knowing she would dodge it; when she did, it smashed against the opposite wall. She was already charging, fist winding back. Nightwing caught her punch, and she grabbed his shoulder with her other hand. She pulled her body around so she landed behind him. He spun around after her as she tried to punch him again; Nightwing caught it on his arm instead of the chest. He quickly grabbed her hands, gripping them tight.

"You forget. We've done this dance before. I _know _you, Harley. I know how you work." He hissed furiously, his lips inches from hers. He swiftly pulled back, and as he released her hands, his hand shot out and chopped quickly down on the gash he knew was on her thigh. Her face contorted in pain, but instead of her leg buckling, she dropped to her knee and swung the other out to knock his feet out from under him. Nightwing jumped up, spun, and kicked out, his boot barely missing her face as she leaned back. He hesitated, and then leapt up again, this time kicking the foot of the bed so hard that the wood splintered, cracking loudly. Harley glared at him.

"Correction: you _knew_ me, and you should have stayed away like I told you to." Harley rolled backward up to her feet. She slid over and grabbed something propped up against the dresser. An oversized hammer. Taking a step toward him, she swung across at him. Nightwing cried out and backflipped out of the way, his feet planting on the desk, sending the papers and various things on top of it flying.

"When have I ever done as I'm told?" he mocked, and then leapt off of the desk as she swung at him again. The desk splintered under her hammer, and he laughed. "That's right. Help me make noise. Call the bastard in here."

"I'm not the one he's going to try to kill when he gets in here," she grunted as she swung at him again. He launched himself into the air and brought both feet down on the mallet, the head hitting the floor with a _thud_. He braced himself on the handle and then backflipped, hooking her chin with his toe as he kicked out. Harley's head snapped back, and she saw stars.

"We'll see who kills who," Nightwing said icily, picking up his second escrima stick off of the floor and sliding it into the holster beside it's brother.

"Tired of your night sticks?" Harley taunted, leaning on the handle of her hammer as she watched him.

"Not at all," he mused, but his eyes were still cold and unsmiling. Nightwing flicked a wingding from one hand to the other. She could hear the barely audible _shink _of the sharp blade hissing past the fingers of his gloves. His eyebrow twitched and with a flick of his wrist, he launched three of them at her at once. She flipped up over them, landing on the desk. Her hammer clattered to the floor.

"I've always wondered something about those." She smiled wickedly. "Was wingding really the best name you could come up with?"

"The name doesn't really matter, so long as they work," he snapped, and the wingdings smashed through the window behind her. Harley heard footsteps coming down the hall. Nightwing threw another wingding, barely missing her ankle as it embedded itself in the desktop.

"I still can't decide if it's worse than batarang or not," she mused as they both watched the door. Nightwing suddenly swept an escrima stick under her feet and she toppled off of the desk.

"I named them both," he laughed, almost fooled into smiling. Almost. For a moment, it had felt like they were together again, just talking. The footsteps in the hall drew closer as someone suddenly smashed through the window.

"You stupid son of a _bitch_," Batgirl rushed at him, grabbing Nightwing by the uniform. She dragged him away from Harley and threw him out the window, diving after him; leaving Harley in stunned silence and panic, alone in the destroyed bedroom. How would she explain this mess to the Joker?!

"I was-" Nightwing began, but Batgirl cut him off as they grappled to the rooftop across the street.

"-run. I don't _care _what you were doing! You turned your comm off, _again_, and Bruce is going to beat the snot out of you when we get back, he was beside himself when he found out that you were running around as Nightwing when he _specifically _told you-"

"-Babs, I nearly had the Joker!" Nightwing bellowed, grabbing her hand and yanking her to a stop. She tore her hand away.

"We don't want the Joker!" she shouted, slapping him across the face. "You used to be a team player, _Nightwing._ Now you don't listen to the rest of us. We have to work together to take this down, you can't go in alone like this! That's why Batman sent me here to haul your ass back to the Batcave!"

"How the hell did you find me!?" Nightwing demanded.

"The tracer in your suit. Batman sent me after you. You _know _that you aren't supposed to be back in the field until tomorrow!" she cried angrily. "You're going to get seriously hurt if you keep this up!" Batgirl cried, breathing hard. Her cheeks were flushed with anger.

"I could have taken him," Nightwing snapped furiously. Batgirl glared him down.

"You would have died in that room had I not come for you," she hissed, jabbing a finger at his chest. "It doesn't make any difference, though. Whether you die here or at the Batcave, because I do not want to be there when Bruce gets ahold of you. What has gotten _into you_, Dick!?" Batgirl shook her head angrily.

"I'm not going to the Batcave," Nightwing said flatly, walking to the edge of the roof. "Try to stop me, and I won't hesitate to go right through you."

"Dick what happened? Where are you going? I've got to tell Batman _something_-"

"-I'm going to the hospital. The Joker got ahold of Will." He cut her off, his voice controlled and quiet. Batgirl stared at him in shock, and then nodded slowly.

"Okay. Okay, I'm coming with you."


	30. I'm Just the Messenger

_**It's Time. **_

_**The Joker has been planning to take out his competition in Gotham, gathering them all in one place under the assumption of a team up- instead, he plans to murder them all. But Harley Quinn has had her own agenda. Red Hood and Catwoman have known for days, and suspicions are high between brothers and between lovers. **_

_**None of that matters now. It ends tonight. The Joker's plan- and Harley's too- will be executed tonight. With the team held together by threads and Dick attempting to remain calm as his world hangs in the balance, Batman and his sons will have to work together to stop the Joker.**_

A nurse rushed towards them as Dick and Barbara walked down the hallway. "You can't be in here, it's well past visiting hours-" She was silenced when Dick wordlessly held up his badge. Her face fell. "You're Dick. You're his partner. Right this way, Officer Grayson…" the nurse said quietly, turning and leading them down the hall. She seemed unsettled; Dick could read the uneasiness in her words and her walk.

"You didn't have to come," Dick said under his breath. Barbara glanced at him.

"Bruce would kill me if I let you out of my sight. Then he'd kill you. Besides, I know him too," she whispered, her hand tightening on Dick's arm. Outside the windows, the trees bent dangerously in the violent wind. It wasn't even midnight, but Gotham was darker than Dick had seen it in months. The nurse turned and led them down another hallway where Commissioner Gordon stood outside of Will's closed door. Relief washed over his face when he saw them coming.

"Thank God you're here, Grayson. He won't talk to anyone but you." The Commissioner sighed, his eyes glancing over Barbara's arm wound around Dick's. He took his glasses off and wiped the lenses with his tie.

"Go on in," the nurse whispered, and then hurried away as if she couldn't stand to be near the room. Dick opened the door and Barbara stopped her father.

"Let's wait out here, Dad, there's someth-" her words were cut off as Dick closed the door behind him. The latch fell into place with a deafening _click_ in the silent room. He shoved his hands into his pockets and walked slowly to the bed.

"How are you holding up, Collins?" Dick asked. The only light in the room was a sickly artificial blueish glow from the lamp beside the bed.

"Dick, is that you?" Will turned his head toward him. Clean white bandages were taped over each eye.

"Yeah, it's me, man. How are you?" he repeated, pulling the chair to the bedside and sitting down.

"I'm going to be honest. I've been better," Will joked, then winced as his smile hurt. Dick bit his lip and looked down.

"I'm sorry. This is all my fault."

"Dick this isn't your fault," Will reprimanded. "If Nightwing hadn't saved me the first time, I wouldn't be sitting here today to _get_ hurt. I can take trials as long as I'm still here." Will pushed himself up into a sitting position.

Dick nodded slowly, and then ran a hand through his hair. "I suppose you're right. Thank you, for not saying anything, I mean. It takes a lot of guts to stand up to the Joker. I would know. So thank you. What did he want?"

"I knew you would have done the same for me." Will cleared his throat. "I think you did something to piss him off. He wanted to know why you saved me at the station, and if I could tell him anything about you that could lead him to you. I pretended I knew nothing, so hopefully that's the end of him wanting me." Will shrugged.

"Hopefully," Dick agreed. "You're going to be under police protection either way. Was there anything he said that sticks out to you? Anything at all."

"Not really. He seemed more into torturing me than actually getting me to say anything." Will's fingers played with the hem of his blanket.

"Jesus Christ… how did you get out of there _alive_?" Dick rubbed his face, taking a deep breath.

"He was just going to kill me, but…" Will trailed off. "Harley," he whispered quietly. Dick stiffened.

"What about her?"

"I mean, at first, I thought she just wanted me to suffer more," he admitted, sounding ashamed, "but as soon as the Joker left, she was a mess. I think she cried more than I did." Will shook his head a little.

Dick closed his eyes slowly. "She let you out, didn't she."

"She told the Joker something about how keeping me alive would be a bigger statement or something instead of letting him kill me. I think she would just have taken me to you or Batman or something, but she told me if she did that, the Joker would get suspicious; she had to take me somewhere public. So she took me a block from the station, pointed me in the right direction, and I just hoped you would find me."

_I'm so sorry, Harley. I'm sorry I doubted you._ "Good. You're safe now, Will, I promise." Dick sighed, slumping back in the chair tiredly. _God, I attacked her for no reason… _

"I'm supposed to give you a message," Will told him quietly. Dick cocked his head, frowning slightly.

"Let's hear it." He sat up again, his elbows on his knees as he leaned forward.

"Harley, she wanted me to tell you that she won't be able to convince the Joker not to kill next time," Will swallowed hard. "He would get suspicious of her, so she needed to be careful now. She wanted you to know that you needed to watch out, and she wanted you to stay away. She would be unable to not hurt you anymore."

Dick sighed slowly, dropping his head in his hands. "Well, shit. Okay, Will, thank you. Is there-" he was cut off as Barbara opened the door a crack.

"Dick, we've got to go."

"I'm a little busy, Babs-"

"-no, we have to go." She insisted, looking at him pointedly. Dick nodded and stood. "Will, get better, okay? Thank you." He patted his shoulder gently.

"Dick, be careful out there," Will begged. "I don't know what you've all gotten yourselves into."

"Don't worry. We're going to take care of this." Dick nodded solemnly. "Get some sleep." As he walked out the door, Dick knew that that would be impossibly painful. The nightmares were worse than the pain when one encountered the Joker. He looked at Commissioner Gordon. "There's going to be 24-hour watch on this door."

"Of course," Gordon agreed.

"Dick-" Barbara insisted, tugging on his arm.

"Where are you going?" Gordon demanded. "Don't go after the Joker. We're working on it, Grayson, I know you can be rash sometimes."

"I'm taking him straight home, dad," Barbara insisted, dragging him down the hallway. As soon as they were out of earshot, she broke into a run. Dick fell into step beside her. "Bruce wants us at the cave immediately."

Red Robin raced his motorcycle through the streets. He was hoping Bruce wouldn't mind if he made a quick trip back to the Titans; he wanted to check on them and missed Cassie. He swerved around a slow moving BMW. Bruce would tell him now wasn't the right time to go if he asked, but there was always something going on. Besides he was the leader of the Titans; he couldn't just abandon them.

"Hey Tower, this is Red Robin calling in," Robin commed.

"Robin!" Kid Flash yelled immediately into the comm. "How's Gotham?"

"It's good. I'm thinking I'm going to come back to-" The glass window of a internet cafe he was driving past exploded out, projecting shards at him. Red Robin swerved, the glass projectiles ricocheting off his helmet and uniform. "Crap!" He braked hard, his motorcycle spinning until it skidded to a stop.

"What was that?!" Kid Flash cried out.

"I don't know," Red Robin panted. He pulled off his helmet, his brow furrowed under his cowl as he examined the wreckage. The interior of the cafe was completely obscured by plants. "Poison Ivy," he muttered.

"Dude what is going on?" Kid Flash demanded.

"I have a situation here," Red Robin replied, running toward the side of the cafe. "Poison Ivy is up to something."

"Red Robin be careful."

"Don't worry." Red Robin stopped by the side door of the cafe. "I think she's inside."

"Don't bet on it," Ivy said. Red Robin spun around to see her standing casually, hip cocked, watching him with a sarcastic grin.

"Poison Ivy," he hissed, reaching for his bo staff.

"Relax," Ivy told him archly, swaying one step toward him. "I just needed to get your attention."

"Stay back," Red Robin warned before holding his breath. Ivy watched amused.

"Sorry," she smirked. He put his staff between them to try and keep her at bay, but she grabbed it with one hand, sliding it along as she got closer to him. "Don't be afraid," she breathed, leaning her head close to him, her lips parted. "I'm just the messenger." She flipped up her wrist up with an envelope in hand as she stared expectantly into his eyes. Red Robin blinked, his hands fumbling for the envelope. Ivy arched her back away, standing up straight, and sauntered away.

Red Robin glanced down at the envelope in his hands. It was plain white with neat black writing.

**Urgent. Please open immediately.** Red Robin frowned at it, tearing open the back. He pulled out the deep red stationery with the same black ink scrawl.

**Red Robin,**

**Make sure everyone gathers at the Batcave.**

**- H.Q.**

Dick didn't see the need for subtlety. Bruce already knew that he was out patrolling as Nightwing, so when he and Barbara rode into the Batcave on his brand-new motorcycle, he didn't care that it wasn't the most discreet way he could have arrived. Batgirl unwrapped her arms from his waist and got off the back as Nightwing killed the engine and got off. They walked to the computer banks where Batman, Robin, Red Hood, Red Robin, and Catwoman had all gathered.

"What's the problem?" Nightwing asked, stopping beside Batgirl and looking around the circle of heroes. Batman glared at him as Red Robin walked over to them.

"Poison Ivy gave me this," he told Nightwing, refusing to meet his eyes as he held out an envelope. Nightwing took it and skimmed the message inside. He handed it to Batgirl to examine.

"Alright, another message from Harley Quinn. What's it mean?" Nightwing looked directly at Batman, to show him that he wasn't going to cower in fear of his mentor's anger.

"The more important question is should we listen to her," Batman snapped. "I don't think all of us _should_ be gathered here."

"She can be trusted," Nightwing assured him seriously.

"The rest of us are not as prepared to follow her so blindly," Bruce growled.

"So what are we waiting for?" Nightwing ignored him.

"Master Wayne," Alfred called, stepping out of the elevator. "I'm afraid that same young woman brought you another letter."

Batman took the letter from Alfred and examined it. It was larger and thicker than the other envelopes they had received.

"Another Harley Quinn message," Robin said, his eyes narrowing.

"_Open when there is no one left to fight_," Batman read aloud in disgust. "This makes no sense."

"Yes it does," Red Hood spoke up, crossing his arms over his chest. "Tonights the night. Every villain in Gotham will be off the streets tonight because the Joker has called them together for his 'Injustice League'."

"How do you know this?" Red Robin glanced at him.

"I'm the Red Hood. Of course I got an invitation," Red Hood retorted. Bruce cast a sidelong glance at Catwoman.

"Did you know about this?" She stretched lazily.

"Yes, Sweetie," she yawned. Batman's jaw tightened angrily.

"When did you two get your… 'invitations'?" he growled.

"Don't get upset," she sighed. "We knew you'd get brought in the loop."

"_When_." Batman said dangerously, turning to look at her.

"That depends." she glared at him, matching his tone. "When did I join in on the plan, or when did I know about this ridiculous Injustice League?"

"What. Plan!?" Batman insisted, grabbing her arm. "You have five minutes to explain _everything_, before I throw you out."

"Don't be so melodramatic." Catwoman rolled her eyes. "I got my instructions and so will you. Just open the envelope."

Batman held her gaze furiously for a moment and then reluctantly released her. He ran a finger under the flap, tearing it open and dumping the contents into his hand. Four letters fell out. Batman looked at who each was addressed to. Robin snatched the one with his name on it.

"Nightwing; Batgirl," Batman offered up the other two and kept the last one.

Robin looked at his envelope and frowned. Robin. Like you would listen if I said not to open it. Robin scoffed as he tore it open he pulled the stationery out.

**Protect him.**

**- H.Q.**

Robin glanced up at the rest of them, and then leveled heavy eyes on Nightwing. Batgirl examined her envelope distastefully. **Batgirl. Open.** She slipped the paper out.

**Stay out of my way.**

There was no signature. Batgirl scoffed. "Not exactly reassuring," she muttered. Nightwing glanced at her as he slipped his envelope in his glove pocket.

"It just said 'open at the right moment'," Nightwing shrugged in answer to Batgirl's questioning look. "I don't think that's now."

Batman frowned down at his envelope. Batman. **Open only if you will follow what it says.** He hesitated before tearing it open.

**Don't reveal yourself. Wait until the herd is thinned.**

**- H.Q.**

Batman's hand clenched around the paper, wrinkling it slightly.

"My instructions are to take you all to the meeting tonight," Catwoman told them once they were finished.

"What no letter?" Robin sneered.

"No, we got ours in person." Catwoman shrugged.

"Where is it?" Batman growled.

"Where this whole mess began," Catwoman cocked her head, looking at Batman. "The ruined part of Arkham."

"Who's ready!?" Red Hood asked. Robin frowned distastefully at him.

"And what were your instructions?"

"No way," Jason held up his hands, "I am not spoiling the fun. Although I'm a little worried it isn't going to be much fun," he considered with a wince.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Batman demanded of Catwoman, ignoring the others.

"Because a friend asked me, and to keep a lot of people from dying." She assured him, stroking his strong jaw in his cowl. He caught her hand, but he couldn't disagree. Batman reluctantly released her wrist. "I'm sorry I lied to you," she whispered. "I would have told you if I could."

"We have work to do," he snapped, ignoring her apology. His cape whipped around his ankles as he walked to the Batmobile, Robin at his heels.


	31. You're The Punchline

_**Darkness falls on the Batman Family.**_

_**Gathered at Arkham Asylum, still in ruins after Harley and Joker's escape plan, Gotham's worst villains wait. Batman and his team race to stop the Joker's slaughter of them all, and they're making good time.**_

_**But every win comes with a loss. Whether it outweighs the win or not, is up to the hero. They choose whether they succeeded or failed. Dick- Nightwing- was recovering from the shock of Harley's death. She knows what she's doing is right, but betrayal never goes unpunished.**_

The wind whipped through the crumbled walls, blowing ash and soot in the air. The lights of Gotham below the Asylum were blurred, and rapidly vanishing behind the mist rolling over the city before the coming storm. Tarps flapped in the area where reconstruction had begun, and the small party gathered in the still mostly intact and sheltered, empty atrium was silent and still. The wind and the chill couldn't reach them there, howling outside of the asylum like a madman. Wings fluttered in the dark. A cane tapped sharply on the dusty marble floor. There was a sharp, metallic _chink_ as a coin was flipped into the air.

"I thought the clown would have more sense than to keep us waiting," Two-Face dithered, catching the dollar coin in his hand and then flicking it up again. Lightning flashed in a cloud bank towering to the East over the city, briefly illuminating his gruesome features through the skylights in the atrium. The Riddler looked up at them, pondering how they survived the bombing.

"Sense, he has none. Tact, however, the man prides himself on. If he's late, it may be for a reason," Riddler replied quietly, leaning on his cane, his hat pulled low over his head as he looked down again, the brim hiding his face. As the thunder rumbled up the hill from Gotham, Man-Bat fluttered nervously where he was perched on the overturned reception desk. Bane glanced at him in irritation, Poison Ivy half hidden behind his massive form. Penguin scoffed, his monocle flashing in the sudden light as he flicked a lighter open, guarding the flame with his hand and lighting a cigar.

"Tact. I laugh to think that you credit that man with having any self control at all." He grunted, the glowing tip of his cigar the only pinprick of light amongst the group.

"Then why are you here?" Scarecrow's silky voice hissed from the edge of the group. Ivy glanced in his direction, mild curiosity on her face.

"I could ask you the same question," Penguin retorted. Scarecrow laughed softly.

"Because he _asked_. When the Joker asks you to do something, it's not a question. It's a command. It's a yes, or you get gassed."

"You'd die with a smile on your face," Riddler chuckled.

"He'd kill anyone who interfered with his thought process." Scarecrow shrugged, stepping closer to them. "Keep your mouth shut when he get's here, Penguin, or he'll kill you."

"And wouldn't _that _be a shame," Red Hood called as he advanced on them, Catwoman following behind. His helmet was tucked under his arm, his black mask over his eyes.

"Great. Who invited the ex-Robin here?" Two-Face grumbled.

"I thought birds and cats didn't get along?" Riddler quipped.

"You're _late,_" a voice hissed from the darkness. Joker strode into view, his hands gripping the lapels of the fuchsia purple trench coat sweeping around his ankles. A horrible grin reached from ear to ear, his ghastly white face practically luminous in the dark.

"I believe you're late," Penguin grumbled, blowing cigar smoke into the air. Joker's smile wavered a bit, but he held his ground, his green eyes narrowing.

"On the contrary, my flightless frigid friend, I've been observing you since you all arrived. I just _love _to people watch. Now that we're all…" he trailed off, looking around. "Something is _missing._"

"Where's your little Harlot?" Penguin teased, and Joker's grin faltered again.

"Her name is _Harley_, I believe you mispronounced it." He said, a laugh rising in his throat. Lightning flashed across the sky above them.

"Now. You're all gathered here tonight because of one man, and that man _isn't _me. We all know his name. And we are the ones who rise above the rest of the criminals in this decrepit city because we don't fear that name. 'Imagine the _possibilities _just through those doors' I thought. Those doors!" He gestured grandly to the front doors of the Asylum at the other end of the atrium, laughing. "They call us insane. You know, one out of every four people is suffering from mental illness. So I say, check three friends; if they're ok, then its you!" He let loose a peal of laughter, echoing with a thunderclap in the large empty room.

"What the hell is all of this supposed to mean, Clown!?" Penguin spat, the last word dripping with disdain. One corner of the Joker's mouth dipped down.

"If you want me to get right to the point, the act won't be nearly as fun," he said patiently, folding his hands and nodding as if talking to a child. Penguin stood furiously and put his top hat onto his head.

"I don't have time for this," he snapped, hooking his umbrella on his arm. Joker's hand shot out swiftly, the gun flashing in the lightning streaking the sky. Penguin froze.

"Now nobody likes a spoilsport. Take a seat, the show is about to start." He grinned. Penguin snorted.

"The show goes sour when you know the act. We all know that's your gag gun, funnyman."

"Ha!" Joker cried, pulling the trigger. The flag shot out of the barrel and unfolded, and he began to laugh uncontrollably. Scarecrow chuckled a bit, and Riddler smothered a giggle. Penguin smirked at the Joker as he gasped, wiping away a tear. "Oh, it gets me every time," he sighed happily and then pulled the trigger again. The flag shot out at incredible speed, catching the penguin in the chest and knocking him backward. He gasped and spluttered on the floor as the Joker tossed the gun away, cocking a head to look at him as a few of the others in the group cried out in surprise and anger. "See, you've gone and ruined the show for the other kids. You just lie there quietly and bleed to death while I finish, okay?" he said gently, as if chastising a child. Joker whirled on the rest of the group, answering their horrified stares with a blank smile.

"What the _hell_?" Two-Face muttered. Joker snorted.

"Trophy hunting, they call it. I think penguins are endangered…" he mumbled to himself. "Where were we. Oh, yes," he grinned as they heard the first raindrops pattering on the glass of the skylights above them. "Harley, Darling!" Joker cried, and on his word, gas exploded from the vents in the room. The group broke up into chaos, villains sprinting for exits and crying out in surprise and terror. The Joker threw back his head and laughed as they began to drop, one by one, to the marble floors. "Oh don't worry you sad little pussycats, you! It's just a little something to help you sleep. Wouldn't want to ruin all the good fun we're about to have by killing you outright, no sir."

The Joker's laughing echoed off of the walls as Red Hood wheezed, struggling to keep his eyes open. He grabbed Catwoman's wrist furiously, but he could already feel the gas taking effect. "Wasn't- part of the- plan-" he choked, before his head dropped down onto the floor and everything went black.

Joker surveyed the area, nodding at his work like some proud artist as Harley joined him, the gas clearing almost as quickly as it had come.

"Well done, dear. Are the chemicals all in place?" He smiled, whipping off his trench coat.

"Of course, Puddin," she beamed at him.

"Good," Joker chuckled, and began tying up the unconscious criminals, gesturing for Harley to do the same. "Heh… Harley Darling, all this reminds me of a _joke_."

"And what's that?" she asked, immediately complying.

"Well, you see, there was this mental hospital. And one day, a doctor hears that a patient had saved another from a suicide attempt by pulling him out of the bathtub. The rescuer was promptly called into the doctor's office. And the doctor says: 'Sir, your records and your heroic deed indicate that you're ready to go home. I'm only sorry that the man you saved later hung himself in his room.'" Joker giggled, lumping all of the villains next to each other in the center of the atrium. "And then the patient, he says: 'Oh, he didn't kill himself- I hung him up to dry!" The Joker burst into laughter, clapping Harley on the shoulder as he doubled over laughing. Harley let out a breathy laugh.

"Where did you hear that one?"

"Used to tell it to my…" he frowned slightly, his laughter tapering off. He sighed deeply, and then the smile returned to his face. "Never mind that. Let's dose them and get home. Tomorrow it will be You and I against the world-"

"-I don't think so, Joker." Batman snapped from the shadows. Joker's eyes lit up, and he grinned broadly again.

"Bats! I was wondering when the hell you'd get here!" he exclaimed, spreading his arms. "You're just in time. Oh! One of these is _yours_, isn't it?" He stepped back to show Red Hood tied with the rest. "And last I heard, you were this here Kitty's favorite plaything." Joker tugged on Catwoman's mask and then bent over to look at Red Hood. "Well, he's not exactly a lively kid, but he has your eyes!" He cackled.

"You were never going to form a team," Batman stepped darkly out of the shadows, Robin at his right. Joker glanced at the boy and then grinned broader.

"Very good. A decent show can get cluttered up when there are too many leads. Stick to two, or one is always best. After a while they all start to get in each other's way. Not to mention the _fans_! Oh, the fans of the show will get all caught up in which character is better and they become divided and confused- It's a nightmare. All great plays, movies, books; they all have _one._ Good. Character!" He laughed, and then began to pace a bit. "Now as a performer, I get _concerned_ for my fans. _I _know that they know that I'm the best, but there are so many other _distractions_. I'm simply seeking to eliminate these distractions. Now I don't want to keep rambling on about these things because that's what usually gets my good friend Nigma caught, so I'll just cut to the chase-" He tilted his head down, glaring at Batman. "-_I'm_ the star here. I'm the celebrity, and your focus should be on me. They-" he gestured to the others tied up behind him- "They are done for. The list is out, and the director has had to make some _cuts_. Only the best acts go in, now."

"So you'll just slaughter them all?" Batman asked, still not advancing.

The Joker laughed. "Well, _yes._ Don't ask stupid questions, detective, it makes you seem so _dull_. Their acts have been cut, and mine will go on to the spotlight." He grinned darkly. "_I'm _the star. _I'm_ the comedian. _This _is the joke-" he turned to Harley "-and dear, _you're _the punchline," he cackled as a heavy stream of acid shot from the lapel on his coat. Harley sighed, and the stream of acid cut off abruptly, falling pitifully at her feet.

"How could you not have realized that I broke all your toys days ago?" She shook her head. "I'm sure poor Oswald was faking until you gassed him." Joker grinned broader suddenly.

"Oh, Harley." He began to laugh again, shaking his head. Harley smiled back.

"Did you really believe I would trust you again?"

"Of course not!" He laughed harder, putting his hands on his knees. "Looks like the joke's- on me-" he gasped and cackled.

"It was harder than I thought," she sighed, "pretending to still love you. But you always did love an act didn't you?"

"Oh Harley- stop-" he howled with laughter. Harley pursed her lips.

"Of course part of me still hoped you wouldn't try to kill me," she admitted, "but you were always one for the dramatic flare weren't you? I guess what's done is done. I just needed to know your plan." She turned to Batman. "I gave instructions to Gordon, so the GCPD should be waiting to come in and round up the criminals if you want to tune in to their frequency."

"I guess I'll just be taking my leave, then. It was good sparring with ya, Harles," Joker laughed as he turned to walk away. "Oh, 'you always did love an act'? I'm writing that down…" Harley raised an eyebrow at Batman.

"Do I need to give you a letter telling you to get him?" she asked. Batman launched after the Joker as he broke into a sprint, cackling as he flew down a hallway toward the construction zone that used to be the west wing. Robin chased after him and Batgirl and Red Robin materialized from the shadows, hurrying to get the tied up unconscious villains out of the Asylum and to the police vehicles tearing up outside. Poison Ivy sat up, shaking off the ropes Harley had pretended to tie.

"Get out of my way, so I can wake Catwoman and the idiot up," she said calmly. Red Robin glanced at her unsurely. Ivy sighed. "My instructions were to bring something to counteract their sedative. Do you really think we'd just let the two of them lie here?"

Nightwing shot past Harley and dragged her into a sprint beside him, following Batman and Robin.

"Damn you for making me go through thinking you'd abandoned me," he snapped, and then smiled. "And sorry for attacking you earlier." They rounded a corner and chased the others down yet another hallway. The singed walls still smelled like ash. The Joker burst into a stairway and headed up, still laughing all the way.

"I'm sorry but I needed to be convincing," she admitted with a blush. "Besides back when I started the plan with Ivy, I thought you hated me. Then you just went and muddled everything up."

"How dare I," he laughed. "I need to be punished for loving you." They ran into the staircase and could hear Batman and Robin chasing the Joker above them, and they followed.

"I meant it when I said it would be easier if you hated me," she scolded him, glancing over at his profile as they ran. Nightwing smiled again.

"It's never been about 'easy'," he replied. Harley shook her head but smiled.

"You should be _thanking _me, Batman! I got them all in one place, tied up in neat little bows for you. Consider it a gift. I know we both have our differences, but let's part as friends for tonight. I'd hate to end on a sour note!" the Joker shouted over his shoulder, yanking a door open and sprinting into the hallway. He tugged his glove off with his teeth as he ran and pulled out a bomb trigger from his pocket.

"I am sorry," Harley whispered just loud enough for Nightwing to hear. He smiled a little as the door banged shut behind Batman and Robin, and he wrenched it open to follow.

"I forgive you."

"You shouldn't," she cried weakly. "All I've done is hurt you and lie to you, and you should hate me. You've been there for me while I was abandoning you to save people who will probably hate me forever because they are going to get locked up," she rambled before stopping herself. "I don't deserve you," she said firmly.

"Harley!" Nightwing reluctantly skidded to a stop in front of her, grabbing her face. Batman and Robin would be fine for a moment. "The past, remember what I said about the past? You did what you thought you had to do to help us and protect us. I see that now. To any woman that would do that for me, I say _I _don't deserve _you_. Okay?" He looked her in the eyes, panting slightly.

"I am still so sorry about betraying you," she mumbled, moving close to him so that he wrapped his arms around her, and she buried his face in his shoulder. "I didn't know how else to find out what he was planning, and I knew even if you captured him, he would escape someday and complete it. I'm so sorry."

"I know, Harley. Let's finish this. You with me?" he smiled down at her and stroked her cheek, an arm around her. A door at the other end of the hall splintered off of its hinges and both the door and the Joker hit the opposite wall. He crumpled to the ground, hooting with laughter.

"I'll always be with you," she answered as Batman entered through the broken door. Nightwing followed down the hall and went into the room after them. Batman dragged the Joker to his feet, slamming him violently against the wall.

"Oh, Batman!" Joker giggled uncontrollably, gasping for breath. "How much longer can we do this dance? I almost won, this time," he laughed, pressing the button on the detonator over and over. Nothing happened. Batman slapped it out of his hand, and Joker laughed harder as Batman lifted him off of his feet, his back against the wall.

"Another broken toy?" Batman growled.

"It was supposed to dump gallons upon gallons of the waste that did this to me on those wretched villains in the lobby, but… Well whenever I let her play with my things they seem to come back _damaged_," Joker cackled, glancing at Nightwing. "She ruins everything. Like your cop friend. _I_ just wanted to kill him. _I _would have gutted him as he watched- well, he couldn't _really _watch-" Batman punched him across the face as Nightwing took a furious step forward. Harley wrapped her hands around his wrist.

"Don't," she pleaded. Joker coughed, spitting blood on the floor as Batman lifted him up. Joker looked at Harley and Nightwing.

"Oh. _Oh_." He grinned, and then threw back his head and laughed as Batman threw him against the wall. He slid to the floor and groaned in pain. "A little romance in the air? I had my _suspicions _when she kept letting you free, bird boy, I just never guessed I'd be right-" he grinned, blood warping his smile. He laughed and then winced. "I think you broke a rib, Bats-"

"You keep saying you knew all these things," Harley spat, releasing Nightwing to storm toward the Joker in her fury, "but you still couldn't stop them."

"It's better this way!" he laughed darkly and looked at Nightwing. "She's a psychopath's dream. She's a handful, but she's _oh _so good in bed," he howled with laughter, standing with blinding speed and lunging at Harley, the blade in his hand flashing. Robin and Batman dragged him off of her, and he slipped out of their grasp, dodging and evading them as he ran out into the hall again, screeching at the top of his lungs. "Betrayal never goes unpunished, Darling!" He howled with laughter, and Batman and Robin dove out of the room after him. Nightwing helped Harley to her feet.

"Are you okay? Did he get you? Couldn't see in the dark…" he asked frantically, checking her over.

"Dick…" she mumbled, before her knees buckled and she fell into his arms. His heart sank when he saw the stab wound bleeding in the side of her stomach. Taking his gloves off, he pressed them into her side in an attempt to stop the bleeding, and picked her up.

"It'll be okay, I'll get you help. We've got to get you out of here…" he rushed out of the room and to the stairs.

"Dick stop," she whispered, tears streaming down her face. He ignored her. "Dick!" she said more firmly, reaching one hand to weakly cup his face.

"No!" he snapped, hurrying down the staircase. "I will not lose you again!"

"Dick," she begged again before crying out in a wail of agony as he wrenched open the door. She bunched up in his arms, sobbing into his chest. He skidded to a stop in the hall.

"Harley what's wrong!? What's-" he pulled the blood soaked gloves away from her side for a moment. The blood seeping from the wound was bubbling from the acid the knife had been soaked in. The edges of the wound were ragged and burnt. "...oh God…" Nightwing knelt, putting her down gently and digging around in a glove pocket as he pressed them to her side. "I have an antitoxin in here somewhere, Bruce gave it to me, I just-"

"-Dick," Harley wrapped her hands over his, "look at me."

He looked at her desperately. "Harley I can _save _you, it's what I do! Now let me just-"

"-Stop," she said, a drop of blood forming at the corner of her mouth. Harley raised her hand up to his cheek and stroked it, her hand trembling. "I'm sorry I told you I didn't love you."

"Don't apologize. I've already forgiven you, remember? Don't apologize," he pleaded, his voice determined, but wavering. Her hand fell back by her side.

"I do love you," she breathed, her voice weak. "I was just trying to protect you from-" she broke off in a ragged cough.

"I know you were," Nightwing whispered, and then swallowed hard. "I love you too, Harley." She blinked her eyes, trying to focus on his face…

"You should... you should hate me... Dick," she choked. "It's the right moment," she said sadly.

"What-" he began, but then his heart sank as he remembered his letter. He slipped it out of his glove, wrinkled and freshly bloodstained, and tore it open. He pulled out the red stationery.

**Dick,**

**Don't mourn me.**

**- Harley**

"No," he breathed, his jaw clenching. "No, I won't let this happen. Not again." He pressed his comm. "Anyone _please_- I need help-" He dragged Harley into his arms carefully, pressing his gloves harder to her side. "You'll be okay you'll be okay you'll be okay…" he pleaded. Her hand reached up again, fluttering weakly.

"This… this is how… I'm sorry," she gasped faintly. Her hand fell onto her chest, and her eyes unfocused listlessly past his face.

"No!" he cried, his voice finally cracking as tears spilled from his eyes. He choked back a sob, wrapping his arms around her.

It had taken Red Robin a minute to find Nightwing after his comm had called in. As he sprinted down the hall toward the spot where he knelt, his running slowed.

_Oh, no._

He could just barely see Harley in his arms in the dark, and Nightwing sat with his face pressed into her hair as he held her. Red Robin slowly walked towards them. Even in the dark, he could see the blood. Harley Quinn was dead.

"What happened, Dick?" he asked quietly, resting a hand on his shoulder. He gasped through his sobbing and Red Robin closed his eyes.

"'What happened?'" Nightwing repeated, looking up at him brokenly. Red Robin closed his eyes. It was unbearable to see his mentor, his role model, so destroyed at heart.

"Dick… I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." Red Robin replied, resting a hand on his brother's shoulder. Nightwing closed his eyes, unable to believe that this was happening again.

"What?" he breathed weakly, barely even fighting acceptance anymore. Red Robin said the only thing that came to mind.

"She's gone. God's taken her home." He whispered.

"Why is he taking her home alone?" Nightwing choked, tears spilling over his mask and down his bloodied cheek, dripping from his chin and onto the blue stripe across his chest.


	32. Author's Notes: Take II

Grayson grins, her hands still over her mouth. She looks at Quinn. "They're going to kill us. They're all going to kill us for killing her." Her face suddenly falls, and she covers her mouth again. "Oh my God! Spoilers, if you haven't read that chapter!" Grayson cries, laughing. "Although I don't know why you wouldn't have… Anyways, Grayson and Quinn here back for Authors' Notes, Take _Two_! For Part Two!" she laughs. Quinn flops over the back of the couch and hits the ground with a thud.

"They're going to kill me!" she squeals. Grayson laughs.

"Yeah, it was your fault. Suck it. Guys, if you want to kill someone, take her!" she cries, grinning. Grayson sighs. "What are we even going to talk about in this one? I had a whole bunch of stuff that I thought of, but I can't remember any of them."

"I know some things," Quinn's head pops up over the back of the couch, her glasses skewed, "but I'm hiding. Shh." Grayson frowned and spun around, planting her knees on the cushion and looking over the back of the couch.

"Dude stop hiding, they can't actually come get you. _I _don't even know your address. I think your dorm building has a six in it… Get up here and participate, nerd," she laughed.

"Well it does have a six," Quinn admits. "So you're technically not wrong." She rolls up over the back of the couch, across Grayson, and onto the floor. She giggles "I killed my own character," more giggling. "Everyone's reactions have me feeling like I need a cat to pet while twirling my mustache. Or a lab coat and some erlenmeyer flasks bubbling as I laugh deeply. I have broken the story. Muwahaha!" She rolls onto her stomach, giggling into the carpet.

"It has _two _sixes. And the fact that you remember 'erlenmeyer' makes me feel like you're a nerd, so you proved my point. So. What did you have to say?" Grayson crosses her legs, sipping Sunny D out of a Superman glass.

"What do I have to say?" Quinn sits up. "What do I have to say!?" She crumples across Grayson's legs. "Why don't you say something," she whines. "My character is dead, so it's a whole lotta Dick coming up." She snickers. "That's what she said."

"Ha!" Grayson squeals and claps, pointing at her. "Those jokes will never not be funny." She shakes her head. "Dude we've gotta focus."

"Dude. I am focusing. You just used a double negative." Quinn grins. "Anyway." She sits up before Grayson can do anything. "In all seriousness… in some seriousness, I'm enjoying everyone's reactions to this too much. Kinda satisfying watching you guys freak out like there's a fire… that I started… and I'm still not any better with analogies. But just imagine me sitting with an evil grin on my face as you run around in panic."

"And the fact that she's enjoying you running around in terror and frustration is why she writes for the crazy person," Grayson points out. "I'm the sane one. Who also writes for the Joker," she giggles, laughing theatrically.

"I am _so_ not the crazy one," Quinn insists before wrinkling her nose as she considers the statement. "Skipping over our apparent need for therapy, I have to be honest with you faithful readers." She adopts an apologetic expression. "Harley is gone. You will be experiencing a lot of Dick- that's what she said- so I would like to apologize for his whiney girl behavior." She grins at Grayson.

"Hey. Okay. I am trying my absolute best! You guys: I know that Dick was acting like a whiny little baby," she ignores Quinn's fake crying, "so when she says a lot of Dick, know that he's changing his tune later. And-" Grayson smacks Quinn's arm excitedly- "Okay okay okay- Dick was _totally _acting the way he was supposed to." She looks and Quinn. "Yes, I'm going to bring up the _Arrow_ thing.'

"Because this could _never_ be complete without Stephen Amell!" Quinn cries dramatically, falling back on the floor.

"No it could not."

"Or Robert Downy Jr."

"_So_ we were-"

"-Or the Chris boys. All three." Quinn nods enthusiastically.

"-watching _Arrow_, right?" She smacks Quinn. "And Oliver's whole family was threatened by Deathstroke, and his whole world was crashing around him, basically the end of season two? And he behaved _exactly _like- oh wait." Grayson frowns. Quinn rolls over onto her stomach and starts fake swimming through the carpet. "Well he was acting exactly like Dick does. He was freaking out just like Dick; not eating, not sleeping, not talking to anyone… So HA! I was right. But then I realized that he was acting like Dick in Part _Three_, and… spoilers?" She laughs. "Quinn, you moron, get up off of the floor." Quinn glances up at her, her cheeks puffed out and her arms hovering in the air. She puffs all the air out of her mouth loudly.

"Oh! My! Glob!" she randomly exclaims before putting her face in the carpet. "We made them a little ship Grayson," she mumbles into the carpet. "We gave them the shiny new SS Harleywing and then we burned it." She looks up, flopping her arms to mime an explosion. "We sank it. PECHEWWWW! We're the Titanic! That's what we are. We gave them this pretty little-giant ship, with it's dazzling canons and then we crashed it into the Jokerburg. And all we have left to offer them are the few little life rafts that are Jason and Ivy, Damian- because he's beautiful-, and amazing cliffhangers," she raises an eyebrow, turning her voice deep, "coming soon to a theatre near you," she returns her voice to normal, "some entirely too predictable plot twists, Alfred the Wonderful, and fingerstripes! Do you know what that's like!" she exclaims. "That's like Hitler spitting on a baby! It doesn't get much worse than that! Next time don't let Admiral H. -for Heartless- Quinn pilot the ship. I sank it along with our followers dreams!" She rolls up against the couch and Grayson's legs. "I broke them," she stage whispers. "No amount of Jason and Ivy fluff can save them. They're drowning in Gotham Sea… along with Dick's Robin diaper."

Grayson stares at her in confusion. "You _are _Hitler spitting on a baby. Oh wait, that's me. Never mind. Quinn. Focus up, let's get things done so I can post Part Three. So guys," she says, rubbing her hands together. "Pardon me, it's _cold _here. We've been trying to comment and reply on all of your reviews- which we reiterate- we _love._" She giggles. "So thank you for all of those."

"Oh my golly jeepers I love responding to them! I may or may not- no one can prove anything- get a _little_ carried away." Quinn pinches her fingers close together. "Just a little carried away. Sometimes I don't get to them for a while then just poop out thank yous like I ate Mexican food. But- DUDE!" She smacks Grayson on the leg a little harder than intended. "We have something that _needs_ to be addressed!" She does a little happy dance. "And it's not the letter I'm writing. Buh dum chhh!"

"Okay I give up! Jeez! Just go if you remembered something," Grayson frowns.

"What… pause for dramatic effect, are we going to call Jason and Ivy?" She giggles. "I know, I know! How could we almost forget something so vital! Okay," she suddenly gets serious, "we've had them called RedIvy and some other things, but this needs to be solved. Okay? Send in some ideas, and… I'm not sure how we'll decided. So far I've come up with: the Reds, Red Squared, the classic Jason and Ivy, and Poison Hood- no, that last one's no good. Anyway, this is the most important thing… besides like breathing or something. Do that first."

"Dude, who even cares," Grayson throws her socked feet up on the armrest of the couch. "RedIvy is fine." She smiles despite her protest.

"I care!" Quinn slams her hands over her face. "Okay, focus. No one is going to believe you actually planned this story," she mumbles to herself. "Alrighty then… things we wanted to talk about… for Part Two... the Part Two things… are… Oh, well, while we're on the subject of Jason and Ivy, we might as well actually talk about that." She glances up at Grayson. "Do we want to get into that llama drama?"

"What was the drama?" Grayson asks, cocking her head. "I don't remember."

"Oh yeah, you didn't have to go back and write half a dozen missing chapters," Quinn whines. "It's so hard to remember everything that far back! We're on Part Four, and there were chapters missing in Part One!" Grayson rolls her eyes at her. "Okay barnyard llama drama scaled down." Quinn wrinkles her nose in thought. "So at the very start… of this story, we had an Ivy. She's actually my sister, and it was- love her to death- a terrible idea to invite her onto this project with us."

"Not my fault," Grayson mutters.

"Hey! It's not my fault!" Quinn winces. "Maybe a little. So… hmmm… Okay! Around the time we started working on this, I watched _Batman: Under the Red Hood_- random segue- and Grayson and I were kinda super excited about this project. We talked about it _all _the time, so I started to feel bad because we're both the bestest of friends with Ivy, and she wasn't in on it so I may, maybe a little, kinda sorta told her she could write Ivy in the story. I then felt bad because it was a romance between Grayson and my characters, so I promised I'd find her a love interest. Under the Red Hood popped to mind, I had her watch it, the idea was approved, and badda bing badda boom, should have been great right? Well, months of drama and anger aside, she never really wrote them. _So_ when we got to the chapters with Ivy with- or without Jason- we just skipped over it to be done later, hoping she'd write them. We really really didn't want to cut her out, but there were about twenty missing chapters and when we got to those chapters in posting them for you lovely readers, I'd have to go back and write them." Quinn takes a dramatic breath after her rant.

"Are you done yet?" Grayson sighs.

"_So_," Quinn groans, "while you guys may love Jay and Ivy, it's actually kind of a pain in the butt," Quinn admits. "This also meant that we were planning on writing Ivy out before Part Four. Strangely, you guys love those two. It was actually pretty weird that you guys loved those chapters, so I tried to make them fun for you guys,and they turned out a lot different than I had originally thought because it was just so surprising you guys loved those two, so I had to give you guys more of them. Anyway," Quinn leans against Grayson's knees, "we are bringing Ivy back in Part Four for you guys. Go you guys! You guys are keeping that ship sailing all on your own." Quinn giggles. "And there are some Jay and Ivy chapters in Part Three." She grins wickedly. "I do have one chapter of just those two left to catch up on, so if you guys are really good, maybe I'll drown it in fluff."

"Anyway," Grayson elbows her. "We can elaborate a bit more on some of the dorky behind the scenes details on _Part Two_ and it's contents. First off, we have a _lot _of other fandom bits in this series. And I mean a _lot._ Everything from Doctor Who to Sherlock, The Last Airbender and Supernatural. As well as some others. I do recall making a Walking Dead reference in the latest chapter we wrote." Grayson looks at Quinn who shakes her head.

"I'm still grouchy. And I want doughnuts." Quinn buries her face in in the couch. "Go on without me! Save yourself!" she calls weakly. "If you need something to talk about, go on about the symbolism we accidentally or intentionally made. Or Joan." Quinn waves her hand. "The skank."

"Symbolism. Did we talk about the falling/flying thing?" Grayson cries. "The falling and flying thing that we've had since the beginning I forgot was from freaking _Sherlock._ Moriarty says 'falling is just like flying. Except there's a more permanent destination.' I _completely _forgot that that's what it was from. And it's the basis of this entire story. It's crazy! I need to control my random fandom outbursts," she laughs.

"Okay, I made an Office reference. We dig deep." Quinn rolls her eyes. "Another bit of symbolism we actually tried to make was with their clothes. Shout out to Katarr for noticing!" Quinn laughs. "Okay we didn't really try with this; it started happening, so we embraced it. We used the colors red and blue in their clothes. Yeah, not something you'd pay attention to. Way back in Part One here: Dick and Harley are both neutral black on their first date, kay? On the second date Dick wears maroon and Harley navy. They both inch their way closer to each other's colors, and Dick even compliments Harley when she wears Nightwing blue." Quinn glances at Grayson, giggling. "When they find out who each other are at the gala, they're in their own colors. He's in blue, and she's in red. Little bitty things like that." She snaps. "Oh! And then Harley's costume. I did try on that. Remember?" she asks, not waiting for her to respond. "Ivy, when she was our beta, noticed that Harley ran off to face the Joker when she was mad without her makeup on. She was dating Dick at that point and was pulling away a little at that point. Bit of symbolism about not being his anymore…" Quinn trails off a little self conscious. "Then there was her changing to her more Arkham esq costume here in Part Two. She is really just using him and isn't his 'jester' anymore. Wow. The symbolism we actually tried to do sounds stupid out loud."

"No it didn't, I liked the symbolism. I liked that a lot. And it continues through the third part," Grayson elbows Quinn. "That was my doing. Watch for that, guys."

"Well yeah," Quinn scoffed. "I don't have a character to… symbolize with."

"That's cuz you killed your character!" Grayson cries. She laughs, reaching for her Sunny D again. "But seriously, guys, don't worry about it. The universe will go on."

"Yeah please, please, _please_ don't stop reading the story. Guys! Just hold on tight; the story is good! I swear!" Quinn pleads. "Oh, and Harley isn't completely gone," she offers, "she makes a guest star in some early chapters- the third chapter even… just… it's not… she's not really…. She's dead." Quinn nods. "You know?" She glances at Grayson. "You know?"

"Yeah, it's not really spoilers, Dick is kinda hallucinating. Right? Or flashbacks? I don't remember. Part Three is my favorite part. I _love _it." Grayson grins.

"Yeah, that's because it's all about your character." Quinn rolls her eyes, stealing Grayson's Sunny D. "Oh, and Part update: there are now five- count them-that's a whole hand worth of parts- _five_ parts. Part Four was getting a little too long. And by a little too long, I mean it was getting long enough to be two parts." She sips the drink.

"Yeah I hope you guys are ready for this," Grayson sticks her tongue out. "Because we are not going to stop posting this story. We already have the ending planned, far down the line. Anyways, back on topic. We got a comment about the inconsistency of the injuries? I want to explain that away a little bit. First off, it's _really _hard to keep up with all of those wounds those batboys get. I mean, they're always in trouble," she giggles. "And secondly, I just figured that the boys would have a much higher pain tolerance. I tried to mention that Dick could still feel the pain when he and Damian were jumping over the railings and stuff. I just figured that they'd ignore it. Or put up with it, anyways," she shrugs.

"Those boys get beat up so much, I can't remember who has what bruise." Quinn shrugs. "Oh snickerdoodle! I remembered another thing we wanted to bring up." She sits up straight. "One thing we did, we thought you guys thought you should be aware that we know we're doing. And that thing… is calling Harley 'Harles'. I know right?! Our nerve!" She giggles, gnawing on the cup rim. "Okay, to explain, in the comics, Harley _is _called that, but it's spelled 'Harls'. We know we're spelling it wrong, we just don't care. Suck it!" she bursts out.

"You're obsessed with that," Grayson shakes her head. "Anyways, since we should get close to wrapping this up; another thing I wanted to talk about was the Joker. You remember?" she glances at Quinn. "The Joker starts out as the suave classy Joker with well kempt suits and very neat makeup, our Anthony Misiano Joker-" Grayson pauses to giggle and pretends to swoon- "and he works his way through the parts to becoming more like the Nolan Joker, less organized and a lot more unhinged, visually and emotionally."

"I don't even try to touch that character." Quinn rolls over to put the drink back on the table. "I suck at writing him. So I just give her lots of opportunities to go crazy." Quinn sticks her tongue out at Grayson. "If I don't, she tends to start killing random characters. I have forever given up the phrase 'do whatever you want'. It only ends in tears," she promises. "And death." She frowns for a moment. "Although, I guess my planning does that too… We're the George R. R. Martin of fanfiction!"

"I DO WHAT I WANT!" Grayson shouts, letting lose another peal of theatrical laughter.

"NO!" Quinn rolls a few times before lying spread out across the floor with her arms splayed. "I am the Master Commander!" She points at the ceiling.

"Oh my gosh, guys, we love Olan Rogers."

"Grayson and Olan, sitting in a tree. K-I-S-S-I-S-S-I-P-P-I!"

"Anyway, We should finish up because Quinn needs to get to bed." Grayson smiles and pats Quinn's head.

"No!" she whines, swatting at Grayson's hand. "I won't go! And you don't get to make grown up decisions. When you do, the police force ends up dead, Dick and Damian almost end up dead, okay Dick almost dies _a lot_," she glares at Grayson, "Joan happens. I hated Joan, FYI everyone. I was going to kill her with or without Grayson's permission, we just made it useful… sorry if that was a bit unclear. Oh, and you made me angry enough that there needed to be a Part Four… which grew into Part Five. It may have inadvertently been my plot twist, but it's all your fault. SPOLIERS!" she screams before covering her mouth with her hands.

"You're the one who said it! You had to have known that I would love the idea. And then ruin it completely." Grayson laughs. "Anyway, in Part Three we promise a lot more Cat and the Bat, Bruce and Selina; there will be a lot of batfamily, and more of the same characters and their backstories. We also, I think… introduce the girls, too. Stephanie and Cassandra. You'll get to meet the Teen Titans, the Justice League, and more! Originally we were on AU Earth 16, _but_ as time went on and we added and subtracted things, it became our own AU. So don't expect us to follow any parameters of any AU's out there. This began with the foundry of Young Justice, so you'll see some similarities there- like Dick wanting to be part of the Justice League- but then it progressed far beyond that. It had a mind of it's own. You'll see some things taken from the New 52, too. Things I liked, or things I didn't find totally awful. Like certain characters, and costumes."

"Oh! And watch out for plot twists. Okay I _know _that statement makes no sense, but what I mean is: keep guessing. Review what you think is coming, or if you think you're right and want to maintain the surprise, PM us. We love you guys guessing… and freaking out." Quinn tucks her knees into her shirt. "And if you can guess some stuff, I'll be super impressed. Sometimes we didn't even know the plot twists. We made them up on the spot, _or _I kept them from Grayson until they happened." Quinn grins.

"And as always, thank you for reading. Be sure to watch out for Part Three, coming _really _soon. Should we do thank-you's now?" Grayson glances at Quinn.

"No! I don't wanna leave!" Quinn whines, falling onto her side with her knees still tucked into her chest. "We won't get to see them until the end of Part Three, and it's the longest one so far… I think. So many things happen!" She looks up pleadingly at Grayson. "We can't do thank you's yet! There's so much more to talk about."

"What the hell do you have left to talk about? You're scrabbling for words here and I have to sew my Robin costume for Halloween," Grayson smirks. Quinn hisses.

"I'm not going to bed. You can't make me!"

"Quinn!"

"Grayson!" she mimics.

"Anyway, guys, she's got tests to study for-"

"-Study shmuddy-"

"-Keep a weather eye out for Part Three!"

"Waffle!" Quinn cries. "Sorry." She blushes. "Ivy and I started a thing where we yell waffle when we see a free parking spot when we're in parking lots. I guess that one stuck with me… and I did remember something. Moving on. What I waffle remembered," she giggles, "is that we're going to be doing some one shots. Woooo!" She wiggles her arms. "Part Three picks up a month after Part Two, so we had some one shots from there, and ones from basically every part. Just little things we wanted to write about but couldn't put in the story for some reason or other. I know someone guest reviewed that they were excited about something that we- uh- didn't put in any upcoming chapter. _So_, if you guys have anything that you were excited to read about, but we skipped over it, or it was following a different character, let us know. We may write it in our one shots." She glances at Grayson. "I don't know if we will post those until after we're done with the Parts. Question mark?"

"Yeah, I think we will," Grayson agrees. "We've both got a few individual ideas, and I think we can pull off a few suggestions," she says matter of factly.

"Oh! And, I really don't want to pressure any readers to follow or favorite our story or anything," Quinn promised, "but if you do want to follow and or favorite, I suggest following us as an author. We release these in parts, so that's the best way to see when we post them. That will also be how you find out about the one shots. Which may or may not involve actual shots. No promises."

"I promise," Grayson grins evilly, about to cackle madly again when Quinn slaps a hand over her mouth.

"But one thing you won't find: porcupines. We just don't have any porcupines." Quinn shrugs. "Or Opossum." She lifts her head off the couch, smirking. "Is a group of them a possi? An Opossi?"

"Okay, I don't know? Possums? Wait, is there actually an 'O' in front of that? It's Opossum!?" Grayson cries, yanking Quinn's hands away from her mouth.

"Yup. The more you know!" Quinn waves her arms.

"Alright," Grayson claps. "Thank you all for reading and reviewing, we love reading the reviews! As we always say, they make our day, they really do. We're not going to name names specifically this time, but you all know who you are. We love our followers so much, and here's a promise: as long as you guys keep reading, we'll keep posting. Coming soon is _Part Three_ and it _is _my favorite, I've gotta say. You meet a lot more characters, and there's a lot more action. We hope to see you guys again in _Part Three_! Thank you so much!" She waves, and then glances at Quinn, who has fallen asleep on the couch. "Well she's not used to staying up this late," Grayson shrugs, and then laughs. "Hope to see you next time!"


End file.
